Resurrection
by csi101
Summary: Horatio Caine is called back to New York with the sudden appearance of a colleague thought lost. He is forced to see his young colleague in a new light.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

 _New York City, New York_

It was the first week of December and the Winter chill was definitely settling in. A tricky breeze that whipped through Central Park nipped harshly at exposed flesh and the breakthrough drizzly showers, which would disappear almost as quickly as they started, were enough to drive most people searching for cover.

The scruffy young man - bare foot and wearing nothing but a pair of torn, dark blue jeans and a thin, T-shirt - who was half running, half stumbling between the trees before tumbling out onto a pavement, raised barely an eyebrow until he crashed awkwardly into a heavily set woman who had been walking, headphones in her ears, along the path.

"Hey! Get the hell away from me!" she shouted, giving him a shove which, combined with his poor balance, resulted in him tumbling to the pavement.

The young man tried desperately to scramble to his feet - his eyes wild - as a couple of men on bicycles rode to the assistance of the woman and, quickly dismounting, approached ready to subdue him.

Clearly under the influence of some sort of drug, the two men stopped, unsure whether the other man was armed with any sort of weapon. Staggering to his feet, gait unsteady, the young man turned, fear radiating off him as he tried to back away. The two men stared, wide-eyed, at the blood stains sprayed liberally across his face and down his arms.

"Hey, man, are you alright?" asked one of the men, edging closer to him. The nearer he got, the more evident it became that the young man was not alright. The blood stains were not all his, that much was evident, but there were grazes across his forehead, cuts and bruises extending up both arms and there was something not right with his left arm - the angle was off.

His friend reached behind him and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. "I'm calling the cops." he said as he punched in 911.

The mention of police seemed to agitate him even more and he tried to scramble up the slight elevation to head back into the cover of trees. The good samaritan took his opportunity and threw himself at the young man, dragging him back to the ground and pinning his arms behind his back. The movement of his left arm caused a wail of pain - almost animal-like - and he bucked and kicked ineffectually as he tried desperately to escape, but to no avail.

Several minutes passed until the police arrived. What fight was left in the young man rapidly dissipated with a combination of exhaustion and pain and he finally stopped fighting and lay his head against the dirt. He was out of breath, out of fight and out of luck. He felt the weight of his captor lift from his back but any thought of escape was quickly squashed as he felt multiple pairs of hands pin him roughly and then the cold steel of handcuffs closing around both wrists. A sudden twisting of his arm as he was being pulled to his feet caused him to cry out as the pain of his broken arm kicked his knees out from under him.

"On your feet, man. Let's go."

He could hear the voice of the police officer but the pain was so intense it sounded distorted and he doubled over, slipping out of their grip momentarily, and ended up cringing on his knees, trying to catch his breath between painful sobs. He could feel his vision cloud and wished for nothing more than to tumble down into blissful unconsiousness. Instead, he felt the hands return - under his armpits this time - and haul him to his feet. He stumbled as he tried to get his feet under him and felt two solid bodies, one on either side of him, offer some steadiness as they began to half walk, half drag him to the waiting patrol car.

The short walk was torturous. Every step sent another jolt of pain through his body. He was vaguely away of his own voice begging the officers to wait, but there was no let up. There were questions being asked…'What's your name, pal?"….."Where do you live?"…"Where did all this blood come from?"….yet he couldn't answer. He was too consumed with not passing out. He felt a wave of nausea sweep up from deep in his stomach and he wretched as they pushed his head down to get him into the back of the vehicle.

"Hey!" shouted one of the officers as he leapt back, "No hurling on my shoes!"

But nothing came up, and instead he collapsed back on the cold vinyl of the patrol car's back seat. His whole body was shaking. He was overwhelmed with sensations - intense pain sending heat radiating up his entire left arm countered with a penetrating cold that intensified his shivering, nausea and, above all else, an irrational paranoia and fear that he could not escape from. He would have to wait for his chance. He couldn't quite remember what he was running from but he knew he had to keep running. He closed his eyes. The car heater was cranked up and he started to sweat. He felt like he was suffocating. A surge of panic coursed through him and he suddenly had to get out. He rolled onto his back and started kicking at the car doors, desperate to get away.

"Hey! Settle down!"

He kept kicking. He couldn't breathe. Terrified, he kicked even harder, panicked tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.

"Hey!"

He was vaguely aware of the vehicle increasing in speed and the wail of a siren but it was peripheral to his one overriding thought - to escape. He was screaming in frustration when the vehicle turned suddenly and stopped. Both officers exited the vehicle and he braced himself to take what would possibly be his only chance to get away. When the door opened, however, multiple hands were back, grabbing him tightly by the legs and dragging him to the edge of the seat. More hands lifted him and he felt himself being transferred onto a trolley. He struggled with all his might, but there was no chance of escape - there were so many hands. He was rolled to one side and he felt the cold hand cuffs being removed while more hands firmly brought both arms out from behind him and positioned them be the edges of the bed. Then the cuffs were back and he found he could move either arm again. He continued to fight - kicking out with his legs and slamming his head back repeatedly against the bed, screaming in frustration. There were too many voices echoing around in his head for him to concentrate on what they were saying and he didn't care.

He felt the trolley being wheeled and he knew he was in a hopeless situation. Then there were lights. The sudden intensity of the fluorescence made him squint but he couldn't raise his arms to shield his eyes. He groaned in misery. He felt a probe being placed on one of his fingers and, reflexively, tried to ball them into a fist. Instead, he felt strong hands prise them open again and there wasn't a damned thing he could do to stop it.

He felt a tourniquet tighten around his right bicep and tried desperately to pull his arm away but, instead, more hands held his arm tightly down and he gave a miserable wail as a sharp needle pierced his skin. He felt a flush of cold fluid and lifted his head to glare at the person responsible but the movement made his head swim. The lights blurred in and out and he felt a calmness overtake him. He blinked a couple of times as he felt himself starting to feel intensely sleepy and then tumbled down into blessed unconsciousness.

Detective Mac Taylor stood patiently outside of the emergency room. He nodded as he was joined by his colleague, Lindsay Monroe. She smiled back and offered a simple "Hey" before turning her attention to the action in the treatment room. The 'room' was a three walled cubicle - the fourth wall being made of two heavy, clear plastic 'doors' which acted as a barrier from outside contamination but enabled staff from outside the room to see through in case of an immediate emergency. It served its purpose but did little to offer the unfortunate person being worked on any semblance of privacy.

Lindsay winced as the T-shirt was cut off her suspect/victim and tossed to one side. Another emergency room nurse collected the shirt and shoved it into a clear plastic bag.

Mac glanced across at his young detective and gave her a wise smile.

"Let them do their job, Lindsay." he said quietly. "We work with the evidence as it comes to us. Helping the living trumps our evidence."

Lindsay gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"No identity yet?" she asked.

Mac shook his head.

"Nothing yet. He was found dehydrated, hypothermic and disorientated in central park. First responding officers reported him being incoherent when questioned about his name or history."

A nurse pushed open one side of the plastic doors and held out the plastic bag containing his clothes for the Detectives to take. Gloving up, Lindsay put her hand into the bag and patted down the jeans pockets.

"No wallet, Mac. No documentation on him at all."

Mac nodded. He had expected as much.

After several more minutes, the attending doctor exited the treatment room and walked over to the waiting CSI's.

Without wasting any words on pleasantries, the doctor launched straight into his review of the patient.

"Multiple cuts and abrasions, suspected fractured left ulna and fractured ribs - we're waiting for radiology at the moment - and a concussion. We're waiting for toxicology to come back to see what he's taken. He's sedated and ventilated at the moment and we'll keep him under for the next 24 hours until the effects of the narcotics have abated. We'll get radiology done here before we transfer him up to the intensive care unit."

"We're going to need to photograph his injuries, doctor, and collect DNA evidence. Can we have access to him while you wait for X-rays?" Mac asked.

The doctor nodded and indicated for them to head into the treatment room.

Working quickly, Lindsay and Mac both donned gloves, Lindsay unzipped her camera bag and started overall shots of the man while Mac started collecting trace from his hair and scraped under his fingernails. There were injuries all over his body - some recent, some in the process of healing.

After they had completed photographing his body, they moved to the side and let in the nurses who set up a 'bair' hugging blanket to re-warm their patient. Before they left, one final thing had to be attended to - Lindsay took out a small ink pad from her kit and gently lifted each finger individually and got a set of fingerprints. Taking a swab, she gently took a mouth swab as well, careful not to touch the tube of the ventilator.

While Mac went out to the nurses station to leave their contact details, Lindsay packed up her equipment and stole a final glance at the patient. He was maybe late 20's, early 30's in age and had dark, wavy hair - unkempt and greasy. His face and arms were dirty with grime, even despite the crusted blood that had splattered his skin. She felt a pang of empathy for the young man who, through circumstances unknown, had ended up alone, desperate and frightened on a cold day in central New York. She became determined to uncover his identity at the very least.

Back at the crime lab, Lindsay scanned the mystery man's fingerprints into the computer and started running them through the CODIS system. An often time consuming process, she left the prints running and headed to the DNA lab to process his cheek swab and to start writing up her report. She had a busy shift ahead of her with two other open cases as well.

It was several hours later by the time there as a result.

After unsuccessfully sorting though two different categories of CODIS, Lindsay, more out of desperation than actually believing she would have success, scanned through a government employee database. The alarm sounded signifying success as Lindsay was nearing completion of her preliminary report.

The red highlight on her mystery man's name caught her eye before she even had time to lookout the accompanying photo. DECEASED. How could that be? Looking at the image, she confirmed the individual was definitely the man currently lying in the bed at Lennox Hill Hospital.

Reading his profile bewildered her even more.

CSI Detective Timothy Speedle

Killed in the line of duty, 2004

Miami Dade Police Department.

 **This is my first story after a long break from writing. Please consider writing a review. It really is appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

 _New York City, New York_

Detective Mac Taylor leaned over Lindsay's shoulder, frowning at the screen.

"It makes no sense." Lindsay said, glancing up at her boss. Mac stood upright again and gave a shrug.

"Have you got the DNA results back?" he asked.

"Got them right here." she replied. "That man in the ED is definitely Tim Speedle, and he definitely is not dead."

Mac took a deep breath.

"Then there's only one thing left to do." he replied, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing his cell phone. "I need to call Horatio Caine in Miami and see what the hell is going on."

 _Miami, Florida_

In a rare event, the Miami Dade crime lab was quiet.

Lieutenant Horatio Caine was using the lull to catch up on paper work with personnel reviews and leave approvals to complete. It had been a long time since he had had the time to lock himself away in his office and do the mundane parts of his job.

The buzz of his cell phone distracted him and he glanced at it, assuming it would be for a call out to a scene but was instead puzzled to see Mac Taylor's name on the screen.

"Mac." he answered. "It's Horatio. This is a surprise." "Horatio. It's been a long time." Mac responded. "Is this a good time to talk?"

Horatio, sensing the call was important, turned his attention away from the papers in front of him.

"Sure." he replied. "What can I help you with?"

Mac hesitated a second.

"I'm calling for information on a CSI who worked in Miami-Dade up until 2 years ago. Our database search came back that he is deceased and I'm wondering what you can tell me about him. His name was Detective Timothy Speedle."

Horatio felt as if he had been kicked in the ribs - Speedle had been like a son to him and his death had left an open wound on his soul.

"Uh, Tim." he murmured, taking a steadying breath before starting again with a stronger voice. "Tim was one of my CSI's. He was killed in the line of duty in September, 2004. I was there when he was shot. He was a good man. Why are you asking?"

There was a momentary silence on the other end.

"Were you close with him?" Mac asked quietly.

"Yes." Horatio replied. "He was a member of my team. You know what that's like, Mac. Your team is your family."

Mac nodded. He certainly appreciated the paternal feelings for his own team.

"Mac, what aren't you telling me." Horatio asked quietly.

Yet another pause.

"Horatio, you need to come up to New York."

Horatio was un-nerved.

"Mac…"

"He's alive." said Mac simply.

There was stunned silence on the other end of the phone.

"Horatio, he's alive. We've printed him and run a DNA comparison and there is no doubt. Tim Speedle is alive."

"Mac, that's not possible. I was there when he was shot. He died in my arms." "Horatio, I understand but….he's alive. I don't know how he's here but it definitely him. He's not well - he's in hospital under sedation - but he's alive and he'll be OK."

More silence.

"OK, I'm sending through a photo to your email right now. But, Horatio, you need to get to New York." said Mac. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but the man in hospital was definitely the same man as the 'murdered' Tim Speedle and he had clearly had to fake his own death for whatever reason. They needed to get to the bottom of it and, for that, he needed Horatio Caine.

Horatio was dumbstruck. If Tim Speedle had faked his own death then surely he would have known about it. He saw a new message icon appear on his computer screen and moving the mouse deftly he quickly opened his email. One new message from Mac Taylor. Clicking on the link a photo appeared. The image almost made him drop his cell phone. It was one of the crime scene photos from the hospital but the man in the hospital bed was definitely Tim Speedle. Scruffy, longer hair - including facial hair - and grubby, but the face was definitely his.

Horatio hit the print button and pushed himself up from his chair.

"Mac," he said quietly, "I'm on my way."

Dr Alexx Woods sat at the computer in the ME office, finalising her coroners report for Calleigh. Although she liked being busy, she was grateful to get shifts which weren't as hectic. She prided herself on being thorough but the workload in an understaffed coroners office often meant she had to sign off on reports which were not up to her high standard. A quiet shift let her catch her breath.

A knock on the already open door caused her to look up and she smiled. She was very close to everyone on the day shift, but with Horatio it ran deeper. She admired him deeply and had never worked with anyone that she trusted more.

He entered the office and closed the door behind him. It was odd - her office always held an open door policy unless they were dealing with a particularly sensitive case. It meant Horatio had her full attention instantly. Moving away from her computer screen, Alexx frowned at the tense look on her friends face.

"Horatio? Whats going on?" she asked cautiously.

Horatio pursed his lips together, taking a moment to collect his own thoughts before raising the very sensitive topic of Tim Speedle. Alexx had been very close to Speed - a quintessential mother-son relationship. She was a born Mom and Speedle had been in desperate need of strong parental figures throughout his time in Miami. He had come from a very dysfunction family and had never enjoyed a close relationship with either of his parents. He could often be found in the coroners office sharing a coffee and a chat with Alexx, and it was equally as common to find Alexx in the CSI's break room sharing her lunch with him.

Horatio moved to sit on the edge of the desk and locked his eyes firmly on the coroner.

"Alexx, I need to know what happened on the day Speed was shot." he said, not wasting words on small talk.

Alexx tensed up instantly. She had been blindsided and subconsciously broke eye contact momentarily. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she regained her composure quickly and made herself look back into the steely, electric blue eyes that were pinned on her every move.

"What exactly do you want to know, Horatio?" she asked quietly. "Tim died."

The tension in the air was palpable.

Without breaking eye contact, Horatio silently slid the printed image of Speedle across the desk until it was directly in front of Alexx.

"Then why did he turn up in New York City this morning?" Horatio asked

She looked down and gasped in surprise at the sudden recognition, bringing a shocked hand up to cover her mouth.

"Who was after him" he asked quietly.

Alex looked up, her eyes suddenly intense with emotion.

"I don't know." she said in a voice barely more than a whisper.

"Alexx…"

"Horatio, I don't know." she said more firmly. "He didn't want to do it. He wanted to go to you but they wouldn't let him. They didn't give him any other option. I was only included to make it look genuine - it would have raised too many red flags if another coroner had performed the autopsy. I was threatened with criminal charges if I told anyone and I couldn't do that to my kids. I didn't have a choice."

Horatio gave a slight nod. He didn't blame Alexx but he couldn't hide his deep disappointment. He - along with the rest of his team - had walked through Hell and back during that time. Grief had almost consumed them and to think that it was all set up was nothing short of galling.

"Who are 'they'" he asked - voice tight.

Alexx paused for the slightest of moments.

"Sackheim." she murmured.

Horatio felt as if he had been hit. He had had several run-ins with FBI Special Agent Dennis Sackheim. He had found him brash and abrasive and this did little to improve Horatio's opinion of him. He pushed himself angrily off the desk and turned to leave.

"Horatio."

The pain in her voice made him stop and turn back around just as he opened the office door.

"Is he OK?" she asked quietly.

Horatio nodded slightly.

"He will be." he answered. "I'm going to New York tonight."

Alexx nodded.

"Bring him home." she said.

Horatio locked eyes with her again.

"That's my plan." he replied before turning and walking out.

 **Thank you for the reviews for Chapter 1. They are very much appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

 _New York city, New York_

It was very early morning by the time Horatio checked into his hotel. There was little point in trying to sleep so he headed to the hospital instead. Something deep within him wouldn't really believe Speedle was alive until he saw him with his own eyes. During the short taxi ride, he sent Mac Taylor a text message instead of calling to alert him to his arrival.

At that time in the morning, the hospital foyer was virtually empty but in the intensive care unit it could have been any time during the day. Staff were coming and going through the central nurses station before disappearing into their respective patient's rooms. The receptionist pointed him to the right cubicle and Horatio noted the police officer stationed just outside. He looked beyond bored. It had clearly been a long night for him as well. Horatio introduced himself and showed his badge. The officer nodded his head towards the door and returned to his seat.

Horatio hesitated for a second, took a deep breath, and entered the cubicle. His initial thought when he saw the man lying in the bed was that there had been some sort of mistake. There had been an error in the identification process. It wasn't Speed. But the closer he drew to the bedside, he knew there was no mistake. It had been initially difficult to see past the tubes and bruises but it was definitely him. His hair was longer - curling up at the ends and he was wearing more facial hair than usual. Horatio stood in stunned silence, trying to wrap his brain around the resurrection of his CSI.

"Are you a friend or family?"  
Horatio turned, suddenly realising he was not alone in the room. The intensive care nurse that was looking after Speedle sat at a high table, notes and charts spread out across in front of her.

He offered a small smile.

"Friend." he replied. "I'm Lieutenant Horatio Caine from Miami crime scene investigation. Tim was one of my CSI's."

The nurse cast an eye over her patient.

"We didn't pick him for a police officer." she replied.

Horatio moved to the edge of the bed and reached out to take Speedle's unresponsive hand.

"Well, he's not himself at the moment." he replied quietly.

"How long has it been since you've seen him" the nurse continued.

"2 years." Horatio replied. "It's a long story."

The nurse nodded.

"How's he doing?" Horatio asked, moving his hand to rest on top of the scruffy haired head of his ex-colleague. His brain was still trying to process the fact that he was alive. His last memory was cradling him as he bled out. He thought that nothing could compare with the emotion of having his friend and colleague die in his arms. But this was close.

The nurse looked up from her charts.

"He'll be OK." she replied, "We'll keep him sedated for another couple of days and start to wake him up when the drugs are out of his system."

Horatio was unsettled by the comment. Speed was many things, but a drug addict was not one of them. He couldn't imagine a scenario where he would willingly partake in elicit drug use. But then two years was a long time and he would never have thought that Speed would be involved in faking his own death and not tell him.

Frowning, he ran his fingers through Speedle's dark hair before turning to leave the room.

"This number is for my cell. Call me if there's any change." he said solemnly. He had answers to find. He needed it sorted out quickly so he could take Speedle back to his Miami family as soon as he was physically able.

Horatio arrived at NYPD Crime Lab and was unsurprised to see Mac Taylor already at work. Mac looked up from his desk and raised a hand in acknowledgement to indicate for Horatio to enter then pushed himself up from his desk and went to him, hand extended.

"Welcome back to New York, Horatio." he said, genuine warmth in his voice.

Horatio took the extended hand and shook it.

"Thanks." he replied.

"Have you been to the hospital yet?" asked Mac.

Horatio gave a short nod.

"I have." he replied. "I needed to see him with my own eyes."

Mac ducked his head.

"The doctors are taking good care of him" he said - unsure as to what else he could offer.

Horatio gave a small nod in acknowledgement.

"Have you found out how he came to be in that condition?" asked Horatio.

Mac leant back against his desk and gave a slight shake of his head, gesturing with his hands for Horatio to take a seat on the sofa at the edge of his office.

"We're still waiting on the toxicology report." he replied. "The doctors were expecting to have them back by the end of today. They are keeping him sedated until the acute psychosis abates - which is usually around the 24 hour mark. We'll question him as soon as we can once he's awake but his doctors say there is every chance he may not remember much of the events leading up to the incident in the park."

Horatio nodded.

"And DNA?" he asked.

Mac nodded towards the lab outside of his office.

"My CSI, Lindsay Monroe, is running them now. We ran Tim's first so we could confirm his identity and we have samples from under his nails as well as his shirt."

I've spoken to our coroner - she was apparently privy to Speed going into protection. The person we need to talk to is FBI Special Agent Dennis Sackheim." said Horatio, barely containing the contempt he held for the man from his voice. "He organised the operation and we have…..a history."

Mac gave Horatio a quizzical look.

"What sort of history?" he asked.

Horatio raised his eyebrows.

"Let's just say he's oil and I'm water." he replied.

Mac gave a rueful smile.

Horatio shook his head.

"This makes no sense, Mac." he said quietly. "How the hell did he end up here?"  
Mac folded his arms and looked back at his Miami counterpart.

"What did they tell you at the hospital?" he asked.

Horatio shrugged with his eyebrows and leant back against the sofa.

"Nothing." he replied.

Mac gave a slight sigh, unfolded his arms and moved to take a seat behind his desk.

"To be honest, we don't know much ourselves yet." he replied. "Uniforms were called to central park with reports that Tim was under the influence of either alcohol or drugs. The first responding officers found him confused, disorientated, hypothermic and in a high state of agitation. They took him to hospital and we were called in due to a high amount of blood spatter covering his chest and arms. The amount of blood suggests we will be looking for a body and we have officers trying to piece together his last movements and try and work out what's happened."

Horatio dropped his gaze to the floor. None of this seemed possible. He had known Speedle for close to 7 years before the shooting and he had always been a good kid. Sensitive yet rebellious and requiring a firm hand at times, he had grown into a solid, dependable and valuable asset for the department. He had been a green police officer from St Petersburg when he had initially moved to Miami and Horatio had been his first boss, mentoring him briefly before he had transferred to Al Humphries' bomb disposal team. Despite Horatio working in a different department, he had made sure to keep a close eye on both Speedle and his other young 'apprentice', Calleigh Duquesne. They had started together in the newly established CSI unit and it was important to Horatio that the team succeeded. The developing area of forensics was a costly science and had required an enormous amount of capital in order to set up a specialised department. It was Horatio who had pushed for the massive financial investment from the county and it was his reputation on the line. The appointment of Megan Donner, 6 months after the official commencement of the CSI unit, gave Horatio the opportunity to move back to the bomb squad. He had spent time being trained under Al Humphries when he first moved to Miami and had jumped at the opportunity to reinstate his bomb tech certificate. He had lasted almost two years before the opportunity to return as head of the CSI unit presented itself and he was transferred back, reluctant at first but it took very little time to remind himself how much he loved the ever evolving science of forensics. He had taken back the role of boss and father figure to both Speedle and Calleigh as well as Eric Delko who had recently graduated from the academy and had taken on an entry level position in the team. Speedle had matured a lot but continued to be the one CSI in his team that needed the most direction - not so much in relation to his work, but more with regards to his personal growth. The difference between Calleigh, Eric and Tim were profound. Calleigh and Eric, while not necessarily having the most perfect of families, both had parental support and contact. Speedle had neither. He had been moved out of home as soon as he could - at age 16 he had been fast-tracked into college and had started pre-med at Columbia on full academic scholarship. By 19, he had dropped out after the trauma of losing his best friend as a result of a snow-mobile accident. Speedle, Horatio suspected, had never fully recovered from the loss. He had run away from his life in New York and spent almost two years travelling aimlessly around the country trying to find someplace where he fitted in. Eventually, he had settled in Miami and had started to put down roots. He had settled, for what Horatio guessed, for the first time in his life. His 'death' at age 31 had been a seemingly waste of such massive potential. It had affected everyone but particularly Horatio and Alexx, who had both invested so much of their time and energy in his development. They had not only pushed him back into study but, most importantly, had offered him some normalcy in life. Alexx had provided him with the home environment, Horatio the mental stimulation.

Alexx…..

Pushing himself up, Horatio pulled out his cell phone. He had promised to call Alexx once he had seen Speedle and he meant to keep his promise.

Excusing himself, he stood just outside the office door and hit the speed dial number for the coroner. She answered almost instantly and he immediately noticed the tension in her voice.

"Is he alright" she asked urgently, skipping the usual preamble of pleasantries.

"He's OK." he replied quietly. "He's in intensive care and ventilated but he'll be OK and he's safe."

"Thank God." Alex whispered. "I'm coming up."

"Alexx…."

"Horatio, I need to be there. I've already cleared the next few days as carers leave. I've had a hand in him getting into this situation, I need to be there for him now." she said, defiance in his voice.

"Alexx…" he said again. He suddenly felt very weary. It had been a very taxing few hours and he knew it would be a challenging time ahead.

"OK. I'll see you when you get here."

Taking a deep breath, he tucked his cell phone back into one of the inside pockets of his jacket and ducked his head back into Mac's office.

"Mac, I'm going back to the hospital." he said. "Call me if there's any developments. I'll be back this afternoon."

Mac nodded and pushed himself up from the desk. It was time for him to follow up with Lindsay.

Horatio made his way back to the hospital with the hope he could rest while still being close by in case Speedle was to wake.

A different officer was at the door and he went through the process of showing his identification before entering the intensive care cubicle again. A male nurse was sitting at the high desk and nodded in acknowledgement when Horatio walked in and introduced himself. There was no visible difference to Speedle - he continue to lie in blissful unawareness of his surroundings.

Horatio moved to the edge of the bed and lay a gentle head on Speedle's chest, feeling the rise and fall of steady, albeit assisted, breathing.

"Is there any change?" he asked quietly, turning his head back towards the nurse.

"We've started weaning him off the sedation." the nurse replied. "He's responding to painful stimuli now and starting to move around so he should be waking up soon."

Horatio gave a short nod.

"Is it OK if I sit with him?" he asked, moving to pull a hard, plastic chair closer to the bed when the nurse nodded in agreement.

He reached out and took hold of Speedle's lax hand, surprised when he felt the fingers move slightly. Glancing up, Horatio noticed the generalised movement of Speed's arms and head. He was clearly moving closer to consciousness the more the sedatives worked their way out of his system.

"Speed?" he asked, squeeing his hand. "Speed, it's H."

No response.

"I'm right here." Horatio said quietly, taking a deep breath and moving his hand to rest against the younger man's forearm. Using his free hand to move up and rub wearily across his face, Horatio relaxed back in the uncomfortable chair and closed his eyes. It had been one hell of a 24 hours.

He had inadvertently dozed off and slept for almost an hour when he sensed movement nearby and his eyes flicked open instantly. The nurse and a doctor were by the bed and Horatio instinctively moved back to give the room.

"Timothy?" the doctors voice broke through whatever tiredness lingered and Horatio was instantly awake.

"Timothy, can you open your eyes for me? Open your eyes."

Two tired brown eyes flicked over and Speed's right arm moved up to try and drunkenly swat at the ventilator tubing at his mouth.

"OK. OK." the doctor murmured as he snapped on some latex gloves and watched the ventilator readings as the nurse suctioned out the airway.

"He's maintaining oxygenation well with minimal pressure." the doctor said, tipping his gaze up to lock eyes with the nurse. "Let's go ahead and extubate him. Humidified oxygen by mask and we'll keep him under observation until he is lucid then look at transferring him out to a ward bed."

Horatio gave the medical team plenty of room to work as they cut the tape holding the airway in place and quickly removed the breathing tube. Speed coughed wanly as it came out and moved his head irritably as the bed head was elevated so it left him sitting upright.

"Nice deep breaths, Timothy." the doctor said, rubbing a hand roughly against Speed's chest in order to encourage his compliance.

Instead, a frown furrowed his brow and his head lolled to one side. His breathing came freely however, and the oxygen saturation reading on the monitor next to his bed showed a pleasing 97% after a mask was fitted over his nose and mouth and humidified oxygen therapy started.

The doctor turned to Horatio.

"You're with the police department?" he asked, giving Horatio an appraising look.

Horatio shrugged with his eyebrows.

"Yes, and no." he replied. "I work for Miami-Dade police department. I was a colleague of Tim's when he worked in Florida. And, yes, I am working alongside Detective Mac Taylor in this case."

The doctor kept eye contact with Horatio a moment longer before walking back to the desk to write in some notes to one of the medical charts.

"Well, he will not be well enough to be interviewed for at least another 24 hours." the doctor said gruffly.

Horatio raised his eyebrows again and moved his hands to rest against his hips.

"That's fine." he replied. "His health is the priority here."  
"Good." replied the doctor. "I'm happy we are on the same page. Some of your colleagues have not been so obliging in the past."  
Horatio eyed off the doctor again.

"I can't speak for my colleagues, doctor, but I assure you Tim's welfare is my primary concern right now. I'm not just here as a police officer. I'm here as a friend."

The doctor dropped his gaze briefly before looking up and locking eyes with the lieutenant.

"My apologies. I have had my patient's privacy compromised in the past. He will be very groggy for the next few hours. I wouldn't expect him to be coherent enough for conversations until at least tomorrow morning. If his agitation returns, we will have to look at sedating him again."

Horatio nodded and glanced down at his young colleague, sleeping peacefully next to him.

"I'm glad he has you on his side, doctor," he replied. "I'll let him rest and come back tomorrow morning. Please call me if there's any change."

The doctor nodded.

"We have your card here. If there's any change you'll be the first to know."

Horatio lay a gentle hand on top of Speedle's head before bending down to speak quietly to his former colleague.

"Welcome back, pal. You hang in there and I'll be back tomorrow." he whispered before straightening up, adjusting his jacket and walking out of the room.

As he exited the hospital foyer, Horatio checked his watch and sighed. The day was getting away from him and there was so much to do.

 **Again, thank you so much to those who have sent reviews. I appreciate you taking the time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay in posting this next chapter.**

CHAPTER 4

New York city, New York

Horatio sat on the sofa along the side wall of Mac's office, brow furrowed, and focusing on the page in front of him.

Mac sat back in his chair behind his desk, fingers on his left hand rolling a pen backward and forwards.

"The DNA from under Tim's fingernails confirm he had contact with Carmine Rossi. He's a known associate of Daniel Neeson and has priors for drug possession, assault and battery and grand theft." he said. Horatio's looked sideways at Mac on hearing a familiar name.

"Did you say Daniel Neeson?" he asked, surprised. "As in Daniel Neeson the crime boss and drug lord of New York in the 80's and 90's?"

"And the 2000's." Mac added. "You're obviously familiar with him."

Horatio nodded.

"I had my fair share of dealings with his associates when I was working with the NYPD." Horatio replied. "But what connection does Speed have with them? He's never worked patrol in New York - he joined my CSI team fresh from St Pete PD."

"He grew up in New York though, right?" added Mac.

"He did." Horatio replied, "But he was little more than a kid when he moved away. He finished school then two years at Columbia before he left for Florida." "What about his family?" Mac asked. "Any connection to crime through them?"

Horatio shook his head again.

"He's been largely estranged from his parents for years but he comes from a respectable family. His father owns a chain of restaurants throughout New York and his mother works as a social worker. One brother - a lot younger than Speed. He never spoke much of him but I guess he'd be about college age now."

"Could he be the connection?" asked Mac.

Horatio shrugged with his eyebrows.

"Anything is possible. I met his parents at his funeral…" Horatio paused, a frown creasing his brow. It was surreal to think that the whole heartbreaking day was little more than a theatrical production. "His brother wasn't there."

He stopped as it dawned on him. Fake funeral. Fake family.

"Do you mind if I use your computer, Mac?" he asked as he pushed himself up from the sofa.

Mac nodded towards his computer in acknowledgement as he pushed the monitor around for Horatio to see.

A quick google search of James Speedle restaurants and New York brought up several photographs of upmarket dining establishments. Scrolling down he found what he was looking for - James and Kate Speedle at an opening of one of their new restaurants. Neither were familiar to Horatio, although there was clearly a familial resemblance between Tim and his mother.

Mac leant forwards to see the screen and glanced sideways at Horatio's reaction.

"Don't tell me," he said, "not the parents you remember from the funeral."

"No." he murmured.

Horatio brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was suddenly feeling very tired and, glancing at his watch, realised it had been well over 24 hours since he had had anything remotely like decent sleep.

"Horatio, go back to your hotel and get some sleep." Mac said quietly. "Let us run with this. We'll arrange to have his parents brought in for questioning but it probably wont be until morning. There's nothing more you can do here tonight."

For a second, Horatio thought about rejecting the offer - he had an uncanny knack for pushing through tiredness when he was on a case - but he knew Mac was right. He would just have to wait. It would take several hours to locate the Speedle's parents and, by then, it would be late evening - too late for questioning people on a non-urgent matter. So, instead, he gave a wan smile, murmured a thanks and left for his hotel room bed.

As tired as he was he couldn't manage more than a few hours of broken sleep. It was early morning when he finally admitted defeat and pulled on sweat pants and a sweater and went for a walk around the streets of his hotel. The cold was a shock and took him back to memories from his childhood spent running around the streets of Queens in the middle of winter and playing in the snow. Snow. It was one thing he really missed by living in Miami. The iciness of the air made him wonder if there would be snow by the end of the day. He walked for almost an hour - enjoying the stillness of a busy city just starting to awaken for another day - and realised that, as much as he still loved New York, it was no longer his home. It was almost like he was seeing the city for the first time as a visitor. Smiling, he returned to his hotel. A steaming hot shower made him feel almost human again and he headed downstairs for a cooked breakfast. His was midway through when his cell phone rang - Mac Taylor - letting him know that they had located Speed's parents and they were due at the station at 11AM. Glancing at his watch, he finished up his breakfast and headed out. He would have time to drop back in to the hospital before heading back to the CSI offices.

Walking into the ICU, the first indication that circumstances had changed was the absence of a police officer outside the cubicle. A slight frown furrowing his brow, he ducked his head into where his colleague had been the night before, hand on his badge in case he needed to identify himself, and instantly saw the room cleared of anything from its previous inhabitant. There was no sign of a nurse in the room so he headed back to the main station and cleared his throat in order to get the attention of a receptionist busily copying documents at the copier.

"Excuse me." Horatio said, voice deep with concern.

The receptionist turned her head and nodded.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked, continuing to lean against the copier as pages spat out the end of the machine.

"The patient in room 11 - name Tim Speedle - can you tell me where he's gone?," he asked.

The receptionist walked back to the computer and tapped some buttons before looking back up at Horatio.

"He's been transferred to the mental health assessment ward." she replied. "Level 4, follow the signs."

Horatio frowned again and thanked the receptionist before walking back out of the unit.

As the elevator doors opened on the 4th floor, Horatio walked out and was looking for signage directing him to the right area when he heard a familiar voice.

"Horatio."

Glancing down the corridor, he gave a wan smile to Dr Alexx Woods who was holding a large cardboard coffee mug and a handbag slung over her adjoining shoulder. Walking to her, he held out an arm and embraced her shoulder to shoulder.

"It's good to see you." Horatio said quietly.

"You too." Alex replied. The two had been colleagues for many years and had formed a close friendship on top of their work relationship. Any tension that may have existed evaporated instantly.

"Have you been in to see him?" Horatio asked - voice deep but s quiet it was almost a whisper.

Alex nodded her head.

"Mmm hmmm." she murmured as she took another sip of her coffee. "He's awake and recognising me. A little confused about the events that have led to him being in hospital. He doesn't have much memory of the last few days." "Has he told you anything he may remember from before they picked him up?"

Alex shook her head.

"He's not lucid enough for questioning, Horatio." she replied.

"Is he still being guarded?" Horatio asked.

Alex shook her head again.

"No." she replied, "Detective Taylor dropped by late last night to say they weren't pressing charges."

"You've been here all night?" he asked

Alexx shrugged.

"I got in about 10 and have been sitting with him since then. I'll stay a bit longer then head back to the hotel and get some sleep."

Horatio nodded and took a deep breath.

"Alright. Where is he now."

Alex pointed down the corridor to a large, closed off ward.

"He's in the locked mental health assessment ward. Straight through the doors and room 42B on the right. Code to get out is 430E. I'll be in in a minute. I just want to call Henry before he drops the kids at school."

Horatio nodded and headed for the doors. He thought of the years he had worker alongside Speedle - as vulnerable and fragile as his spirit could be at times, never did Horatio ever think he would be visiting him in a locked mental health ward.

He found the room and took a moment to stand just outside the doorway and observe his young ex-colleague.

Lying in the bed - rails raised to stop him from trying to stand - he seemed preoccupied with something outside the window. One arm was encased in a plaster cast and the bruises were changing colour from reddish purple to a deeper blue/black, but otherwise he looked relatively OK. The central intravenous line had been removed from high on his chest but there was still a line running into his arm. Horatio watched him a moment longer before knocking quietly on the door.

Speedle's head turned at the sound and the dark eyes that Horatio remembered so well fixed on him with an intensity that made it obvious that not all the drugs had worked their way out of his system yet. The undercurrent of emotion that came with seeing Speedle awake and responsive again stopped Horatio in his tracks. It was one thing to see him unconscious in a hospital bed, another altogether to see him 'alive'. He took a deep and steadying breath and exhaled audibly.

"Hey." he said, ducking his head down and angling it to look at his young friend again a tight smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Speed held his gaze for a long moment before looking away. It was his insecure habit of avoiding prolonged eye contact that made it hit home for Horatio. This was real. Speedle was back.

"Hey." His characteristic deep voice was croaky from having been ventilated but hearing it again was surreal.

Horatio move to stand next to the bed and reached out his hands to rest against the bed rails. He looked at Speedle, eyebrows raising in a silent shrug, not sure what to say.

Speedle looked back at his former boss before bringing a slightly shaky hand up to rub at his eyes.

"Are you real?"

The question was asked in such a quiet voice that Horatio almost couldn't make it out.

"What's that, buddy?" he asked quietly, leaning a little closer to hear him better.

"Speedle closed his eyes and brought his fingers up to jam in the sockets and rubbed them as if trying to clear a stubborn dream.

"Are. You. Real?" he asked again, enunciating each word slowly.

It dawned on Horatio that he may have been suffering hallucinations.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm real." he replied, moving his hand down to grasp the younger mans arm. Speedle stopped rubbing his eyes and dropped his hand down onto his chest.

"You feel my hand on your arm, Speed?" Horatio asked, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "You feel that? I'm real. I'm here."

Speed nodded but kept his eyes closed.

"How are you feeling?" Horatio asked.

Speedle frowned and brought his un-plastered hand back up to rub his face again.

"Feel like shit."

It was a typical gruff Speedle comment and Horatio couldn't help but smile.

"Well, you'll be OK and that's the important thing." he offered.

After several moments of awkward silence, Horatio took a deep breath and asked the question he wanted answered more than anything.

"Do you remember anything from the last couple of days?"

Speedle frowned again and finally his dark eyes opened, squinting a little as his brow furrowed.

Shaking his head he mumbled an answer.

"Don't remember anything."

"OK." replied Horatio. "Can you tell me how long you've been in New York for?" Speedle's eyes dropped shut again and he shook his head again slightly.

Horatio sighed.

"OK, pal. We'll try again later. It's OK."

Speed brought his 'good' arm up again and rested it over his closed eyes. It suddenly dawned on Horatio that maybe it was for a reason.

"Speed, are the lights too bright for you?" he asked quietly. "Do you want me to close the blinds?"

A slight nod was all the confirmation he needed and, moving to the window, he pulled across the curtain darkening the room. With the altered light, Speed's eyes cracked open again.

"Better?" Horatio asked.

Speed still frowned - not unusual for him.

"Headache." he murmured.

Admitting defeat, Horatio reached out a hand an squeezed his young colleague's bicep before turning to leave.

"OK." he said quietly. "I'll go find your nurse and see if they can give you something for that. I'll come back later, pal, and see how you're feeling. You rest up."

Speedle gave another small nod and closed his eyes again.

Just outside the room, Horatio ran into Alexx once more.

"Everything OK?" she asked, dropping her cell phone back into her handbag.

Horatio nodded.

"He's got a headache." he replied, "I was just going to look for his nurse."

Alex nodded.

"You go and get back to figuring this out, Horatio." she replied, reaching out to take one of his hands and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'll organise some paracetamol for him."

Horatio nodded in appreciation.

"Thanks, Alexx." he mumbled. "Call me if you need anything. I'll be back later."

Alexx smiled and waved him out of the ward.

Hortio walked through the crime lab and knocked on Mac's office door. Mac was talking on his phone but gestured at him to enter and take a seat on the other side of the desk. After a moment, he finished his conversation and rang off, turning in his chair to give Horatio his full attention.

"That was Agent Martin from the organised crime division of the FBI. Agent Sackheim is out of the office but he'll get him to dial in to us as soon as he's available."

Horatio nodded in response. They needed answers as to why Speedle was put into witness protection and Speed was in no condition at the moment to shed light on it himself.

A knock on the door drew both of their attention. Lindsay stood in the doorway, a manila folder clutched in one hand.

"Uh, excuse me Mac, Lieutenant Caine. I think I've found something. It's big."

Mac motioned her in.

"Let's have it, Lindsay." he said in his trademark deep voice.

Dragging another chair up to the desk, Lindsay opened the folder and took out two sheets of crisp, white paper.

"Well," she started, "because we found trace evidence under Tim's fingernails from Carmine Rossi, I thought I'd try and find any connection between Tim and Rossi or Daniel Neeson - given that Rossi is one of his associates. I figured there had to be some connection. I didn't expect to find anything but…." instead of finishing her sentence, she simply pushed both pages across the desk to Mac.

Picking them up, it took Mac several moments to see what had gotten Lindsay so excited. It was the missing link.

Horatio watched the look of realisation cross over Mac's face before reaching out see the pages himself.

"What made you check his DNA profile?" Mac asked, impressed that his CSI would think to work that angle.

Lindsay shrugged. "I just figured there had to be a reason why Carmine Rossi would be in close enough contact with Speedle to end up with his skin cells under Tim's fingernails. He's a high end drug dealer. Speedle doesn't fit the profile of a routine drug addict so why would he have any reason to be in contact. So I figured I'd start with the unlikely first then work up. Turns out I didn't have to go any further." Horatio couldn't speak for several long moments. His brain was struggling to process what he was seeing. Finally he was able to get some words out.

"A familial match. Tim Speedle is Daniel Neeson's biological son."

Mac sat back and watched his Miami counterpart with eyebrows raised.

"I guess that answers some of our questions.' he said simply before checking his watch - it was just past 11.00. "Let's go see what else we can find out. His parents should be here by now."

Horatio took a deep breath before dropping the pages back onto the desk and pushing himself up ready to follow Mac out to the interview room.

Mac rested a hand briefly on Lindsay's shoulder as he passed her.

"Nice work, Linds." he said, impressed with her results.

Finally, they had a lead.

 **Thanks for reading. Please consider leaving some feedback. Thanks in advance.**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Horatio Caine gazed intently at the woman who sat across the table from him. The deep brown eyes were identical to those of her son.

"Detective," she said, her voice laced with a heavy New York accent, "we haven't seen or heard from Tim in years."

Horatio frowned in concern but remained silent.

"I appreciate that, Mrs Speedle, but its not the recent history that we want to talk to you about." Mac replied.

Kate Speedle shot Mac with a sharp look - eyes boring into the Detective - before regaining her composure and readjusting her position in the hard, plastic chair.

"Fine. What do you want to talk about?" she asked brusquely.

"We want to ask you some questions about Tim's childhood." Mac said, leaning forward to rest his hands on the table.

Kate Speedle gave a little shrug.

"We gave him the best life we could." she started. "He wasn't an easy child. He always had a strong will….."

"Tell us about his father." Horatio said quietly, voice deep and gravelly.

Kate swung her gaze to him instantly, her body language defensive.

"James is his father." she answered, not breaking her eye contact with Horatio.

Horatio shrugged with his eyebrows and gave a small, humourless smile.

"Not according to DNA. Does the name Daniel Neeson sound familiar?" he asked, determinedly not breaking the eye contact. He won that battle and Kate looked away at the sound of the name.

James Speedle, silent up until that point, cleared his throat and leaned in closer to his wife.

"I have been Tim's father since he was two years old." he said, tone cool and controlled. "I taught him how to ride a bicycle. I took him to ball games. I put him through school. I may not be his biological father, Lieutenant Caine, but I was there for that boy his whole life - right up to when _he_ decided to leave. That's a hell of a lot more than I can say for Daniel Neeson."

The venom in his voice was almost palpable. He reached his hand across and took his wife's hand without looking at her.

Horatio pursed his lips before taking a breath.

"Did he have any contact that you knew of with Daniel Neeson?" he asked.

Kate shook her head vehemently.

"He would send Tim Christmas and birthday presents but we wouldn't let him have unsupervised access to him." she replied.

Horatio nodded before continuing the line of questioning.

"Did Tim know that Daniel Neeson was his biological father?

Kate took a steadying breath before answering.

"Yes." she replied quietly, the initial confidence waning. "He knew who Daniel was and met him on a handful of supervised visits when he was very young. Visitation rights stopped when he was about 7 when Daniel went to jail for 3 years. We thought that he was out of our lives forever and Tim rarely mentioned him until he turned 13. Then he changed."  
Horatio frowned.

"Changed how?" he asked quietly.

Kate looked exhausted and glanced over at her husband who took over for her.

"Tim was a quiet kid." he started. "Always reading. Always wanting to know everything. When he hit his teenage years, things started to change. He became moody and withdrawn. Kate and I had just had our son, Matthew, and we thought he was just acting out because there was another child in the house. But as he got older he started asking more and more about Daniel. He started getting into fights at school. He was always in trouble. We tried discipling him but it didn't have any effect. Finally, when he was 16, we caught him with marijuana. We didn't want that lifestyle for him - not with his family history. We were constantly at war with him. Constantly yelling at each other and it was putting too much of a strain on our marriage and on our other son. It got to the point where we were considering separating. The only way we could save our marriage was to get Tim out of the house. He saw it as us choosing his brother over him and he shut us out completely. He was almost finished his senior year so we hung on until he had finished then he packed up and headed to Columbia. We never asked him but we suspect his father had re-entered his life sometime around then. He was more cashed up than he should have been with what we were sending him. Finally, when his friend - Marcus - died, he up and left. We heard through the university that he had gone and we didn't hear from him until almost 3 months later when he called from Des Moines. We tried to get him to come back and finish his degree and figure out what he wanted to do with his life, we argued and we didn't hear from him again for another 6 months. He made it very clear over the following years that he didn't want us in his life anymore. It's been a hard road for us all, Lieutenant Caine, but none harder than for Kate. She's lost her son."

Horatio raised his eyebrows. He wondered if they realised how close to reality that comment was.

"Please, Lieutenant," Kate said, her voice quiet and devoid of the harsh confidence it had held at the beginning of the meeting, "what is this about? Detective Taylor, you said when you called that Tim's OK. Is this about Tim or about Daniel?"

Horatio and Mac exchanged glances.

"It's about both of them." Mac replied. "As I explained on the phone, Tim is in hospital. He was found confused and disoriented in Central Park. We're piecing together how he got there but there is evidence that he had contact with a close associate of Daniel."

"He's on drugs?" Kate asked , concern clear in her voice.

"He had drugs in his system, yes." replied Mac, "We don't know at this stage how long standing the drug use has been or even if he's been a willing participant.. He hasn't been in a fit state for us to question him yet, but we're hoping he'll be more lucid in the next day or two."

Kate paused a moment, her mind clearly full of questions. When she finally spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper.

"Can I see him?"

"Kate!" James' deep voice cut across his wife.

Kate moved her head to give her husband a defiant look.

"I want to see him, James. He's still my son."

Horatio took a deep breath and leant back in his chair. He didn't know if it was the right thing to do or not. He would need Speed to consent before he could allow the meeting to happen. Speed had maintained a distant relationship from his mother for a reason and yet Horatio knew from personal experience that there was nothing more important in the world than family.

"Mrs Speedle," Horatio said softly. "I will do my best to make that happen."

Horatio and Mac walked straight from one meeting room into the next, barely having time to reflect on the fractured family unit they had just been privy to. The second meeting for the day was not in person but video conference - they had finally tracked down Special Agent Dennis Sackheim.

He had not changed one bit from the forceful, arrogant suit that Horatio remembered and it was blatantly obvious that he was annoyed at having to face questions from Horatio and Mac.

"Caine, Speedle was issued a new identity and given a new life away from Miami. We did our job. We were in contact with him for the required 2 years every week, week in, week out….."  
"Then why is he lying in a hospital bed in New York?" Horatio asked, voice tense as he tried to keep the dislike he felt for the man at bay.

Sackheim glared down the camera lens.

"You'll have to ask him that." he replied tersely. "He was relocated to Salt Lake City. He has been uncontactable for the last 3 weeks. We flagged him in the system and found out he had been located at the same time as you - when his profile was accessed through NYPD. This is on him, Caine. We have him on camera at Salt Lake City International airport boarding a flight to New York on December 8th. He was alone and did not appear under duress in any way. He knew the rules. He understood the requirements for witness protection, he agreed to it and he's blown it. It's on him. This outcome is not reflecting back on my department. Do you hear me?"

Horatio kept his gaze firmly on the screen.

"Relax, Dennis." he replied, "No-one is blaming you or your department. We just want some answers as to how this has happened. Why was he in witness protection in the first place?"

Sackheim looked uncomfortable.

"That's protected information." he replied, "It's way above your pay scale."

Horatio shrugged with his eyebrows.

"Well," he said, his voice strained with a combination of fatigue and irritation, "let's start with what we already know. I'm guessing it has to do with his biological father. Daniel Neeson.

The look of surprise on Sackheim's face lasted only a fleeting moment but did not go unnoticed by Horatio.

Regaining his composure, Sackheim moved slightly closer to the camera and brought his hand up to run through his hair.

"Yes." he replied finally, "His father is Daniel Neeson. Neeson had been in jail for drug trafficking charges until he was paroled in march 2004."

A deep frown creased Horatio's brow at the thought of a person like that being paroled but said nothing.

"Speedle had been called on to be a witness during his father's initial trial and his testimony was important in getting a conviction. At that point, Speedle was 19 years old and had just started his third year at Columbia. He had been in contact with his father from the time he had started at college and had received financial support from him before he realised where the money had come from. When his 'businessman' father was arrested and Speedle realised his long association in organised crime, he assisted the prosecution and cut off all contact. Of course, that put a target on his back. It led to his decision to leave New York and he had been relatively protected while living in Florida and working with the crime lab. We had been tracking Neeson since his release from prison and were tipped off that he had made threats regarding Speedle's safety to one of his known associates. We contacted Speedle in September, 2004 and organised for his immediate transfer into witness protection. He was relocated to Boise, Idaho for 6 months then to Salt Lake City. "

Horatio pushed back in his chair. He could feel the vibration of his cell phone in his jacket pocket but let it go through to message bank.

"So, how did he get from Salt Lake City back to New York without you knowing?" asked Mac.

Sackheim looked clearly annoyed at the question.

"Our monitoring was reduced from fortnightly to monthly as protocol dictates." he started, "He failed to check in with us on November 21st and we commenced screening local authority chatter as well as monitoring his CODIS and law enforcement profile. When NYPD hit his profile with a positive match, it flagged our system to his whereabouts. Why he decided to return to New York is something you will have to ask him."  
Horatio felt the vibrating of his cell phone again in his jacket pocket. Again, he let it ring.

"Is it possible that his father had located him in Salt Lake City?" Mac asked.

Sackheim leant back from the camera.

"Well, obviously anything is possible." he replied, irritation evident in his tone, "I would say it would be unlikely, but Daniel Neeson is a powerful man. He had a whole new identity, Caine. We did all we can. If there's nothing else, I need to get back to important FBI business." He stressed the 'important' which just added to Horatio's irritation.

"That's fine, Dennis." he replied. "We'll continue our 'important' work as well. Thank you for your time."

Pushing himself up from the chair, he left Mac to end the teleconference, tapping his jacket to indicate he intended to return the phone call and headed out of the door.

Pulling his cell from his pocket, he frowned with concern as he noticed three missed calls from Alexx. Hitting speed dial, Alexx answered without any pleasantries.

"Horatio?" her voice was filled with anxiety. "Tim's missing."

 **Thanks for reading. Please take a minute to review. Many thanks to those who have reviewed the previous chapters - its very much appreciated.**


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry for the delay in posting. But, in compensation, I'll post two chapters today instead of just one. Please review. I really appreciate reading them._

CHAPTER 6

New York City, New York

Horatio arrived at the hospital, Mac by his side, and found Alexx waiting for them in Speedle's room, nervously pacing.

"Alexx." Horatio said as he entered the room. "What happened?" She was clearly distressed but her professionalism masked the undercurrent of emotions.

"He was sleeping so I went to get a coffee. When I came back - and it was literally no more than 15 minutes - he was gone." she said. "I asked his nurse where he'd gone and she said an orderly had arrived to take him to radiology just after I left. When he hadn't returned after an hour, his nurse called down to radiology and they had no record of him being there. His attending physician hadn't ordered any films. The nurse hadn't seen the orderly before but thats not unusual. She is checking the video surveillance from the hospital foyer but its going to take time."

Horatio frowned and gave a short nod.

"OK." he replied. "We need to get hold of that surveillance and see for ourselves. Can you find whoever is in charge here and get me a copy of that tape?"

Alexx nodded and headed out to the wards reception desk.

Horatio swung around and fixed Mac with a steely look.

"They've got him." he said simply.

Mac nodded.

"I'll get my team in to process the room. You and I can analyse the surveillance tape." Mac replied, quiet and solemn as he stood next to his Miami counterpart.

Horatio frowned. He hated relinquishing control - particularly when it came to protecting those he cared about - but he knew it was for the best.

Both Horatio and Mac waited patiently for the team to arrive. It was almost 20 minutes later when Danny and Lindsay walked in. Alexx had returned with a copy of the surveillance tape from the security department which she gave to Horatio. Thanking her, he took it and headed back to the lab with Mac.

It took Horatio and the AV lab tech, Adam Ross, less than a half hour to find the images they needed. It showed clearly a dark haired man with a beard and wearing a white janitorial coat pushing a wheel chair. Speedle was slumped to the side and offering no resistance. On a second angle, it was clear he was either asleep or unconscious. Horatio strongly suspected it was the latter.

The tape had been modified by the AV tech to remove superfluous frames and to focus solely on the main foyer from the elevators through to the main entrance. The foyer was a hub of activity throughout the day and in the morning hours that they were viewing on the tape, there were throngs of people entering and leaving. There were delivery people, families with small children running around, people carrying large balloons and flowers, doctors and nurses dressed in scrubs, orderlies wheeling patients to and from procedures and general visitors, stopping at the hospital's gift shop before heading to see their loved ones. No-one noticed the orderly wheeling Speedle through the foyer. No-one noticed as a vehicle pulled up outside the main glass entrance door, or noticed when the driver got out and helped manoeuvre Speed into the back seat. No-one noticed the wheelchair been discarded casually as the orderly climbed into the back as well.

"Adam, can you focus in on the vehicle more and clean up the image?" Horatio asked, leaning in closer to the screen.

Adam nodded and his fingers flitted across the computer's keyboard with ease. The image of the foyer was replaced with a larger image of a heavily pixelated, barely able to be made out image of a white 4 door sedan.

With several more key stroke, the computer program adjusted to compensate for the poor quality and cleaned up the pixelation to reveal a far more recognisable image.

"Now, can you play the tape of just the vehicle as it arrives and as it departs?" Horatio continued.

Again, Adam gave a nod and replayed the video.

The car could be seen pulling up to the main entrance. The men could be clearly seen, again, manoeuvring Speed into the vehicle, and then they watched as the car was driven away. Adam took screen shots of their faces and saved them to clean up later. He ran the video footage again.

"Freeze it there!" Horatio said - the urgency in his voice triggering Adam to pause the video with very little delay.

"Take it back to where the driver gets back into the vehicle and they drive off, then loop it." Horatio continued.

Adam complied and the handful of frames requested by Horatio looped back over and over and over.

"Ahhhh, what exactly are we looking for?" asked Adam, seeing nothing more than a basic image of a car.'

Horatio offered a small smile but did not take his gaze from the computer screen and pointed to a sharp reflection of winter sun at the rear of the car. It was clearly coming off the number plate but made it impossible to make out the letters and numbers.

"Can you clean that up?" Horatio asked. "If you can reduce the glare, we might be able to make out the plate. From the plate, we can get the registered owner."

Adam raised his eyebrows - impressed by the interloper's thinking - and made further adjustments to the program to remove the reflection. It was still difficult to make out, but another program added on top of the image gave them the much needed result.

CTR - 4792

The slightest of smiles passed briefly over Horatio's face - victory.

"And there we have it." he murmured quietly. "Adam, thank you very much." Punching the speed dial on his phone as he pushed himself to his feet, he put the cell to his ear and waited for his call to be answered. It took very little time.

"Mac." he said, avoiding preamble, "CTR-4792. We have their plate."

The victory was short-lived. Although the plates gave them a make and model - which was verified on the film - they also revealed that the vehicle had been stolen earlier in the week.

Although it wasn't altogether an unexpected result, it annoyed Horatio. He looked out the window and pursed his lips together. The light was starting to fade as they headed into a dreary evening. Tim Speedle was out there somewhere. He was in danger and it frustrated Horatio that there was nothing he could do to help him until they got a lead - and the longer it took to find the lead, the greater the danger Speedle was in.

Adam had managed to clean up the images of the two kidnappers and had run them through their database. One came back as a known accomplice of Daniel Neeson, the other was a mystery.

Mac listed a BOLO on the car and then joined Horatio in the lay out room to go through the limited amounts of evidence they had. It wasn't much.

Horatio cut the seal on the paper bag containing Speedle's clothes. He drew in an inaudible breath when he saw the state of the torn jeans and tattered top. They were covered in dirt and grime and there was dried blood sprayed liberally over all. The blood stains had already been tested and, unfortunately for Horatio, Speed had not been wearing shoes. The tread of shoes was always golden when looking for evidence of placement - the grooves often held important trace evidence. He pored over the clothes - analysing any errant fibres he came across, swabbing each of the blood stains independently. He was about to become the trace lab's worst nightmare. It would be time consuming, but he was determined to examine every single piece of evidence. Anything that might give them the lead that they needed.

It was several hours later, in the early hours of the morning, that the first ray of hope appeared. The BOLO had paid dividends. Officers had spotted the abandoned vehicle near Prospect Park in Brooklyn and had called it in. The CSI night shift had been called in to collect the car and to bring it back to the lab for processing which freed Horatio up to continue analysing the trace samples. He was exhausted mentally and physically but in time he found the first anomaly. One small dirt sample taken from Speedles jeans hem showed a different composition than the rest of the samples. On further investigation, the substance came back as having particles of pollen embedded in the dirt. Isolating the sample, Horatio analysed it even further to identify the species. It was not indigenous to the area. It was not even indigenous to the Americas.

Mac entered the trace lab as Horatio was reading the results and took a seat opposite his Miami counterpart.

"Any news?" he asked, casting his eye over the multiple sheets of paper piled up in front of him.

Horatio sighed and pulled his chair around to face Mac, holding the single sheet of paper out for him to take.

"There is one small sample of soil which I swabbed from inside the hem of his jeans." Horatio started. "It has spores of a pollen which is indigenous to China. It's not found growing in the United States. Somehow this pollen found its way onto Speed's clothes. And I don't know how."

Mac stared down at the paper.

"Lilium papilliferum." he stated before looking up at Horatio, a quizzical expression on his face. "I thought Lilium pollen was found worldwide." Horatio nodded towards the paper.

"The genus of Lilium pollens is found worldwide but the individual species are regionally specific. Lilium papilliferum is only found native in China."

"So," replied Mac, "where in New York City would we find a pollen from China? Airports? Docks?"

Horatio took a deep breath in and released it in a slow, measured sigh before pursing his lips and glancing back at Mac.

"At least we have a starting point." he replied. "Have we got anything off the car yet?"

Mac shook his head.

"It's only just arrived in the garage. It'll take a while."

Horatio was tired and frustrated. He pushed himself up from the chair and paced to the window.

"We don't have 'a while'" he muttered.

Mac ducked his head in empathy. He understood the bond that Horatio had with his team - it was the same for him. If it was Danny or Lindsay or Don Flack missing, he would do everything in his power to find them. He couldn't even imagine what it must be like to go through this with a colleague that had supposedly died two years earlier.

"Horatio, go get some rest. I'll call you if there's any development." Horatio frowned and rested his hands firmly on his hips.

"I'm OK." he replied, although the strain in his voice suggested otherwise. "I'll start processing the vehicle."

Mac took a steadying breath and pushed himself.

"Horatio, you are walking a fine line here. You understand that, right?" Horatio turned to fix the Detective with a steely gaze.

"I understand." he replied simply.

Mac sighed, resigned to the fact that his Miami colleague was as equally stubborn as himself.

"Well then," Mac continued, "This may interest you. I've called in an informer who's helped us out several times. He's worked as a seller for some of the main players in the New York drug dealing scene…..including Daniel Neeson. Don has just brought him in. You interested in asking him some questions?"

Horatio locked intense blue eyes with Mac. Was he interested in asking him some questions?!

"Absolutely." he replied.

The informer was identified only as Jimmy and was noticeably edgy. Detective Don Flack was sitting opposite him in the interrogation room, relaxed and confident and eyeing him as he waited for Mac and Horatio to arrive. When the door finally opened and the two men entered, Don stood up and positioned himself next to the doorway, allowing Horatio and Mac to take the two vacant seats.

"Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy." Mac clapped a hand on Jimmy's back before taking a seat opposite him. "It's been too long since we've had a chat."

Jimmy was uncomfortable. It was clear he would rather be anywhere else rather than sitting in the NYPD.

"Meet Horatio Caine. He's keen to ask you a few questions."

Jimmy cast cautious eyes across Horatio but didn't offer anything further than that. Horatio, for his part, kept eyes firmly planted on the man directly in front of him.

"Tell me about Daniel Neeson." said Horatio simply.

Jimmy looked utterly confused.

"This is about Neeson?" he asked puzzled. "That's why I'm here? Look, I'm not working for him anymore. I haven't for years. He's a nobody now." Horatio frowned.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, "That he's a nobody?"

Jimmy looked straight back to the intense blue eyes. He had no idea who this red headed cop was.

"Daniel Neeson is an old man trying to keep up in a young mans world." Jimmy replied simply.

"Is he still involved in the drug scene?" Horatio asked patiently.

Jimmy shook his head and gave a humourless laugh.

"He likes to think he is." he replied. "Look, I don't want any trouble. I don't need this getting out that I'm here."

"Nobody's going to know you were here." Mac started, "We don't want to know anything about anyone other than Daniel Neeson. If he is as irrelevant as you say, you have nothing to worry about. Now tell us what you know about Neeson. Who works for him. Who deals with him. Where does he operate his business from nowadays."

He received a shrug of the shoulders in reply.

"No idea." Jimmy said. "He's always had the exterior of being an importer. My guess is he's still running the same game. Anywhere that will allow importing of bulk materials that can hide ice, amphetamines, even cannabis, that's where you'll find Daniel Neeson."

Jimmy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The longer he stayed within the station, the more likely it was that he would be seen by someone who would report to others that scared him a lot more than Daniel Neeson.

"He has pissed off a lot of people over the years. After he got out of prison the last time - maybe about 2 or 3 years ago, the New York scene was a lot different to when he's been put away. His empire had been screwed over by Tony DiManzo. There were new faces getting better quality product at a cheaper price. His associates had either moved on or died and he's been trying to crawl his way back up the ladder ever since. Trust me when I say, no-one in New York gives a shit about Daniel Neeson." "Who's working with him then, if everyone supposedly hates him so much?" Horatio's voice was low and little more than a growl.

Jimmy leant forwards, fingers clenching and unclenching with a nervous tic.

"Look, Neeson's a goddamn psychopath! He's living in some sort of alternate universe if he thinks he's ever going to have power in this city again. The only people he's got working for him are those who haven't got anywhere else to go: Caskill, Rossi, McClement, Horton. They're loyal but none of them are players in the city anymore."

Horatio frowned and leant forwards too.

"What about children? Has Neeson got any family that you're away of?"

Jimmy shrugged.

"He talked about a son when I worked for him. But that was the early days. His boy was going to go through college on Daniel's dime and then he was going to be recruited into the family business. The kid disappeared before he'd finished college and got out of New York. Smart kid if you ask me. I'd get as far from that psycho as possible too." 

The interview left Horatio more bewildered than ever. Things had certainly changed a lot since he'd been working there. During the years he'd spent as part of the NYPD team, Daniel Neeson had been one of the king pins of New York. How the mighty had fallen. He had sat in the interview room with Mac for nearly 20 minutes after Flack had escorted Jimmy out. One thing had become clear. Daniel Neeson could no longer buy a friend in New York city. With his former associates having left for greener pastures, he needed all the people on his side that he could muster. Including a reluctant son. If he wouldn't join his fathers business willingly then he would be forced to join. If he couldn't be forced to join, then he would be killed. That, Horatio was sure of.

Mac glanced over at Horatio who was in deep thought.

"Ready to start processing the car?" Mac asked quietly.

Horatio paused a moment more, eyebrows raised, before offering Mac a humourless smile.

"Let's go." he growled back.


	7. Chapter 7

_As promised, here is another chapter. I apologise for the formatting of this story - its not letting me double space in between paragraphs and there's a bit of jumping around in this chapter. As always, please consider reviewing this chapter when you finish reading. It's a great motivator to continue. Thanks._

CHAPTER 7

 _New York City, New York_

If the trace lab thought that Horatio had submitted excessive samples from Speedle's clothing, they had another thing coming once he and Mac had finished processing the abandoned vehicle. Every surface was swabbed. Fingerprints taken from every suitable surface. Fibre evidence was isolated and sampled from the seats, the trunk and the floor. The seats were removed and every inch of upholstery was meticulously examined for anything which could give them a clue as to the whereabouts of the missing Tim Speedle.

It was the early hours of the morning by the time the two men finished collecting the evidence and started running them through trace.

Mud within the tread of the tyres and caught up in the wheel rim offered their first clue. It was fresh and still tacky in some places. There was evidence of the same mud smeared on the floor of the drivers side. Horatio was almost robotic as he prepared the samples for the various machines and started the processing. Taking a moment, he checked his cell phone. He had missed calls from both Eric and Calleigh as well as a message from Alexx letting him know she was heading back to her hotel. He would have to contact his two Miami colleagues and let them know what was happening, he thought. He had been hesitant to include them in the investigation until he knew for certain what was going on and if he could bring Speedle home to Miami with him. The three younger colleagues had been very close friends and both Calleigh and Eric had been hit hard by his 'death'. Horatio had felt guilt that he couldn't support them through the terrible time in the way he would have liked - but he was too consumed with his own grief to be able to offer strength to others. For Calleigh and Eric it was equivalent to losing a brother. Speed had started just after Calleigh and the two had formed a solid brother/sister relationship. They would argue and push each others buttons, but it was borne out of respect. Calleigh had been devastated at his loss but had carried on with the stoic toughness of her Southern upbringing. Eric had struggled enormously. He and Speedle had been tight. They teased and pushed each other but there had each others backs. On nights off, they would often meet up at one of the multitude of clubs and bars and act as each others wingmen. Eric had been bereft at the loss - his drinking increased, he became sullen and withdrawn and had stated partaking in the dubious habit of 'toothing'. Horatio had finally intervened and pushed him towards counselling. It was something he regretted not doing himself. The loss of Speed had been all the more difficult for Horatio as it had happened on his watch. He had been by his side and cradled his head in his arms when he 'died'. It had ripped Horatio's heart out. He had always considered Speedle as his own son. He was extremely protective of all of his team, but even more-so of Tim. Calleigh and Eric both had their own families. Tim had no-one. Horatio had defended Speedle - often without the younger man even knowing - throughout his Miami career. He had been the first one to protect him when IAB started asking questions after the disastrous dispo day. He had protected him against the FBI when the integrity of the investigation was undermined by a CSI wannabe in a federally observed case. He had been there to guide his young protege when Speed's former mentor, Megan Donner, suddenly left the team, then reappeared, then left again. It had been a turbulent time for the sensitive and impressionable Speedle and he had often been caught in the middle between a grieving Donner striving to regain her team and her position within the department; and Horatio, who was learning about the demands the position of Lieutenant brought with it as well as adjusting to having been reassigned to his old team as leader overnight - replacing someone that the team respected and loved.

"Horatio?"

Mac's voice brought him back to reality. He turned his head to glance at the Detective.

"Sorry." Horatio said softly, bringing a hand up to rub the weariness from his eyes. "What were you saying?"

Mac passed him a sheet of paper straight from one of the machines.

"Soil sample from the car's wheels match the soil sample from Speedle's jeans - not altogether surprising. Finger print match comes back to James Caskill - but we already knew that. I'm running a list right now for importer and exporter sites throughout New York. As soon as it gets light I'll get my team together and divide up all the airports and docks within New York that deal in Chinese freight and we'll see if we can match the soil samples from exemplars from any of the sites."

Horatio glanced over the paper and set it aside.

"OK." he replied, "I'll continue processing the samples."

"Horatio…" "I need to be doing something, Mac." Horatio replied, voice measured and monotoned. "I can't sit back and do nothing while he's out there."

Mac crossed his arms and looked at his colleague. He understood.

"You care for him a lot." he said simply.

Horatio shrugged with his eyebrows and gave a humourless smile.

"He's like my son, Mac." Horatio replied. "He's a good man and he deserves to have someone in his life who cares enough to fight for him."

Mac held his gaze for a moment more before shrugging and turning back to the evidence.

"Well then," he replied, "we'd better get back to it."

 _Miami, Florida_

Calleigh Duquesne was on the road when her cell phone rang. Glancing down, she noted the caller id - 'Horatio Caine' - and promptly answered it.

"Well, hey, stranger!" she answered, her buoyant Southern drawl seemingly more pronounced to him after several days without hearing it.

"Calleigh."

The tired greeting she received in return made her instantly concerned.

"Horatio, are you OK? Is everything alright?"

There was a slight pause before he replied.

"We need to talk." he started. "Are you alone?"

The subsequent conversation caused Calleigh to pull the Hummer she was driving over to the side of the road. It was a conversation that took her breath away. Her deceased colleague was actually alive and in New York. Her boss and the Miami coroner were both there too. Her ordered brain was suddenly thrown into disarray. She couldn't quite comprehend what was being said. She realised that Horatio had moved on in the conversation and she was still back at the beginning. Tim was alive. She didn't know how to feel. She could cry with relief and joy and yet there was an undercurrent of anger. She was angry that she - and everyone else in the lab - had been dragged to hell and back with their grief, and for what?

"Calleigh?"

Horatio's level voice calmed her and brought her attention back to what he was saying.

"I'm going to call Eric as well and let him know what's happening. I need you to be discreet with this information - we don't want it to be widespread knowledge at this point."

She offered a mumbled agreement and signed off the call.

The news had stunned her and it took her several long minutes of sitting on the side of the road until she felt capable of resuming her trip. She couldn't wait to debrief with Eric.

 _New York City, New York_

The phone call to Eric went much the same way as the one with Calleigh. There was shocked disbelief, sheer elation followed by a moment of frustrated anger. Horatio was empathetic - he had gone through the gamut of emotions when he had first heard the news. He had debated when to contact his Miami team with the news but as another day ended and the light of a new day had started to filter bleakly through the cold rain clouds, he new it was time. They needed to understand what was keeping him in New York and to understand that he would do the same for either one of them. After their respective conversations, he did not regret making the decision.

He managed to get a couple of hours of poor quality sleep in the break room during mid morning, but by mid afternoon he was back at it - processing the results of soil analyses as they came in from the field.

He stopped for only a short period of time to accommodate a visit to the lab by Alexx. She was refusing to return to Miami until they had found Tim - fiercely protective and loyal towards him even now - and she very much needed the counsel of her colleague and dear friend. Horatio sat and listened to her concerns and filled her in on their course of action. They were going to find him and he was going to be OK. They would get him back and take hime home and life would return to normal. In the back of his mind he harboured the unsettling thought that it wouldn't work out that way. They may not find him. He might not be OK. Even if they did find him, would he want to return to Miami? Would life ever be back to normal?

He sent Alexx back to her hotel to rest with the promise that he would call her with news as soon as he heard anything.

Then he went back to processing.

It was nearing the evening when he finally got a lead.

The soil samples from one part of Red Hook shipping docks matched the tiny soil sample found in the hem of Speedle's jeans. He had been there.

Horatio was ready to mobilise immediately but Mac held him back.

"Horatio," he started cautiously, "its freezing out there. It's dark. We don't know exactly where he is or if he's even still there. We'll keep following the evidence and head to Red Hook at first light. It's a massive facility. We need light on our side."

Horatio tensed up immediately, took a steadying deep breath, then stood down. He realised what Mac was saying made sense. But it was frustrating as hell to have to wait.

Horatio made his way back to the hotel. He met up with Alexx in the foyer and they debriefed over a quiet drink in the bar. Horatio elected for a coffee in place of a wine. He rarely drank alcohol - it was a habit he adopted in his early twenties once he had finally got his life back in order after the murder of his mother at the hands of his father. It had been touch and go as to which road he would take back then. He had spent many traumatic years as a child watching his mother endure violent assaults within their own home and it had caused scars that had threatened to push him into a life of crime. He had been taken under the wing, however, of the local parish priest who had counselled and mentored the young Horatio Caine and had channeled his anger into compassion and had instilled a strong moral code which leant itself so well into law enforcement.

The two colleagues sat in a companionable silence for a lot of the time. It was a testament to their friendship that they didn't always need words to communicate. Horatio knew instinctively how Alexx was feeling - he was feeling the exact same thing. Frustration with the speed of the investigation, discomfort in dealing with everything while being so far from home and, mainly, fearful for a friend who was in danger.

Not for the first time, Horatio did not sleep well.


	8. Chapter 8

**Apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. A language warning for this chapter.**

 **Chapter 8**

 _New York City, New York_

It was just after 3 AM when Horatio finally gave up on sleep. He could no longer simply toss and turn - he had to do something to find Speedle. Turning on the light, he squinted at the harsh brightness before padding to the bathroom in bare feet. He splashed cold water onto his face to wash the last of the sleep away then rested his hands against the edge of the basin and looked at his reflection in the mirror. The reflection looked almost unfamiliar. There were wrinkles around his eyes which, combined with the dark circles of tiredness, made him look older than he actually was. There was almost a savageness in the way he rubbed the water from his face with the hand towel before he headed back into the main room and sat down at the modest desk. Then he started writing. He wrote everything about the case that he could remember then took the tourist map from the bureau and started marking all the different places of importance. He wrote questions which still needed to be answered then listed in order his plan of attack. Usually, he would sit in his office and work in this fashion on his computer but desperate times called for desperate measures.

By the time first light appeared, he was showered and shaved and armed with pages of notations ready to take back to the crime lab.

It was still pre-dawn when he headed back out. Mac was already at the lab - Horatio had his doubts that he had even been home to rest - and the two men headed out to the docks after a brief discussion.

The dock area was huge. There were different site offices - some for importing and some for exporting, and a busy customs centre. There were forklifts and cranes operating despite the early hour. The docks were a microcosm of the city it inhabited - busy, bustling and a place that never sleeps.

There were already several police vehicles parked inside the main entrance and an office within one of the customs buildings had been taken over as a makeshift command post. Three groups of 2 officers were already systematically scouring the site assisted by trainees from the police academy, working building to building searching for Speedle. No matter what he had been through over the last couple of years, and despite being employed in a different state, he was still one of their own.

There was activity everywhere, literally hundreds of workers in high visibility vests and hard hats, everyone with their specific duties. Horatio looked around, his hands on his hips, and exhaled deeply. The chances were remote that Speedle was being kept in an area with such a high degree of foot traffic. He felt almost a sense of defeat before they had even started looking. But look they would. Every square inch of every office, shed and container would be searched meticulously. If Speedle had been here at all, they would find out.

The morning rapidly became afternoon with no sign of their missing colleague. Horatio paced through each office in his search section. He was a man on a mission. As the afternoon light began to fail, Horatio's frustration was almost palpable. In an attempt to burn off some anxious energy, he grabbed a bottle of water and a torch and began to walk around the outer perimeter of the docks - no mean feat when considering the size of the compound. He would stop periodically, staring intently at whatever had caught his eye, but nothing stood out. By the time he reached the waters edge again, the sun had almost completely disappeared and the giant lights situated throughout the dock had been switched on. The entire area was bathed in brilliant bright light. Taking a moment, Horatio leaned against a cold, metal bollard and looked out across the bay to the city he had once called home. He loved the city but couldn't imagine ever coming back to live. He paused, almost mesmerised by the twinkling lights from the office buildings and went through the evidence in his head once more. Speedle was close. He could feel it in his gut. But in this line of work, it was all about the evidence. The soil samples matched. The evidence said that Speedle had been in this area. But where?! Pushing himself away from the bollard, he strained his eyes to scan the near shoreline. There was nothing that looked remotely suspicious. He looked again, and again. He was just about to give up when he thought he saw the outline of a building much further along the channel. Straining his eyes, he stared at it hard until his eyes adjusted to the failing light and it came into greater focus. Figuring he had nothing to lose, he started walking down towards it. It was a significant distance from the main dock area and was outside the perimeter fence. There was a manned exit nearby, so Horatio made his way back, showed his ID to the security guard at the boom gate, and made his way back to the building. As he got closer, he could make out it was a large warehouse. He presumed it had once served as a spillover storage area for the docks. By the time he made it to the outside of the building, the sun had well and truly set and the only illumination came from nearby street lamps. Windows around the outside of the building had been boarded up - the glass long since broken - and the main doors were chained and padlocked. Horatio took the padlock in his hands and inspected it at greater depth. Clearly it had not been used in a long time. There was the beginning of rust stains along the edges and he doubted it would be able to be unlocked with a key anymore.

Pursing his lips in irritation, he made his way cautiously around the building, checking each door and looking for any sign of disturbance, but the lack of efficient light made him give up. He walked back to the front of the building and was about to make his way back to the docks to get assistance when he noticed a much smaller building further along the river bank. Built close to the waters edge, it was more difficult to access than the main building. He glanced back to the docks, thinking for a nanosecond that he should go back and recruit some volunteers to come back with him but he doubted he would find anything anyway and it was a risk he was prepared to take.

He clambered down across a rocky outcrop and moved cautiously to the outer wall of the building. Withdrawing the torch, Horatio switched it on and shone the beam on the ground at the front of the shed. There was nothing out of the ordinary and, flicking the light onto the door, it was again clear that no-one had used the lock on the door for a very long time.

He was beyond frustrated. Spitting out an unsavoury word in annoyance, he kicked an errant rock, little more than a pebble, and watched it skit down into the water. He paused a moment and followed the path of the river silently with his eyes. Roughly 200 yards further downstream, he could make out the silhouette of another boat shed, similar in size to the one where he currently stood. He had come so far already, checking out the second boat shed required little thought on his part.

The terrain across to the second shed was much rougher than the first. The rocks were larger and more difficult to manoeuvre around and, on at least two occasions, Horatio slipped and fell heavily onto his knees. His suit, usually so immaculate now sported muddy stains. As he approached the front of the shed, his natural caution kicked in. He could feel a difference instantly. Pausing only long enough to withdraw his weapon, he levelled his torch slightly above the guns sights and positioned the beam at the road leading up to the shed. There were tyre marks clearly visible in the damp earth and, as he brought the torch beam up to the door, the absence of a padlock was instantly cause for concern. Someone had been there, and recently.

Steadying himself, Horatio cut the torch light and moved silently up to the shed, stealing a glance through the window. It was of little use as years of dirt and grime made the glass almost impenetrable to view.

Trying the door, he was almost surprised when it opened easily. It was almost completely dark inside with only the faintest of illumination from the city scape across the river. Horatio took a moment to let his eyes adjust and to rid himself of the total night blindness before entering. Hugging the walls, he made his way around one full circuit of the room. It was clear. Taking the opportunity, he turned on his torch again and took a closer look around. It was mostly bare with the exception of one wall which had a rickety old wooden table pushed up against it and boxes of empty glass jars - all covered in a thick layer of dust, and three new battery powered heavy duty lamps as well as several other boxes without dust - all which had been closed. There were boards missing in parts of the floor and the glass was missing where once a window had been. The cold from outside had nothing to stop it and Horatio subconsciously pulled at the front of his jacket to give any extra warmth. The entire shack looked as if it would fall down completely before too long. The stale air of a locked up shed was combined with the fishy, unpleasant odour of a busy waterway just outside. Horatio could hear the lapping of waves against the underside of the shed. Horatio noticed an area with a dark stain. It looked like dried blood and the couple of stray, dark hairs embedded in it confirmed it in Horatio's mind. Flashing the torch beam onto the floorboards, Horatio noticed fresh foot prints visible in the dust on the floor boards and areas where there had clearly been a scuffle. There were drag marks criss-crossing the multiple different shoe patterns, and Horatio followed them out into a side area. There was another door but it was padlocked - this one shiny and new. Trying a couple of times to ram the door with his shoulder achieved nothing more than causing him pain. He was reluctant to shoot the lock off the door, acutely aware that he was entering an unknown situation and that every bullet in his gun was valuable. Instead, he headed back outside and searched around briefly until he found what he was looking for - a heavy rock. Coming back inside, he cracked the rock against the lock several times until it finally gave way. Raising his gun once more, Horatio levelled the torch light above the scope again and pushed the door open with his foot. As the beam of light bounced off an empty corner, the sound of a heavily smothered but urgent scream for help made Horatio pull the torch light around to the adjacent corner and there, sitting back to the wall, legs bound, hands handcuffed and with material gagging his mouth was Tim Speedle. Horatio quickly re-holstered his weapon and dropped on his knees by his ex-colleagues side. Speedle looked like hell - even moreso than he had in the hospital. While most of the bruises and cuts from that time had healed, they had been replaced with new ones. The plaster around his fractured arm had had been removed to allow the handcuffs to fit around his wrist. His fractured arm was badly swollen and bruised but Horatio couldn't see any fresh needle marks which he saw as a positive. Murmuring words of comfort, Horatio pulled at the tight knot in the material around his mouth until he could at last undo it and remove the gag. Drawing in a deep, hoarse breath, Speedle squinted against the bright light of the torch up at the face of his boss. There was a look of defeat in his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice echoing his misery.

Horatio frowned down at him as he pulled at the knots around his ankles.

"I've come to take you home, Speed." he replied quietly.

Speed was shaking his head in desperation.

"No, no, no. You need to go, H. You need to get out of here while you can. He's insane. Completely deranged. I'm a dead man already. Leave. Please." Horatio paused for a brief moment before attacking the knots again.

"I'm not leaving without you." he replied firmly.

Speed became highly agitated in his desperation.

"H, please!' he pleaded, "Go before he gets back! H, please!"

"H, please. Go before he get's back, H, please."

Horatio spun on his heels, right hand instantly reaching for his weapon. But not fast enough. Daniel Neeson leaned against the door jam almost casually, gun aimed clearly at Horatio's head.

"Welcome to the party, H." he smirked. "Why don't you go ahead and drop that gun. Kick it over to me."

Horatio complied, albeit under sufferance.

He heard Speed's head fall back against the wall with a defeated 'thunk'.

Daniel glanced over at him with a look of disdain before flicking his eyes back to Horatio's before kneeling down to retrieve Horatio's weapon and holstering it in the waistband of his trousers.

Horatio locked eyes with him - determined, blue eyes versus cold, brown ones. Yet there was something familiar reflected back, and it concerned him.

Daniel's demeanour changed quickly.

"How rude of me, I don't even know your name. I'm presuming it starts with 'H'?" he said, false sincerity clear in his voice.

Horatio paused for a second, not wanting to play this little game but knowing he was not in a position to resist.

"Lieutenant Horatio Caine." he replied, words calm yet forceful. "Miami-Dade Police."

Daniel pretended to by impressed.

"A Lieutenant!" he cooed. "Very impressive! And a long way from home. Don't tell me…..you're here to rescue Tim and take him back to Florida. One problem, Lieutenant. He's my son. His destiny is here, with me."

Horatio frowned.

"His destiny?" he asked, confused.

Daniel smiled, a glint of madness evident in his yes.

"I have worked hard over the years, Lieutenant, to build my empire. It's my legacy to my children. For Tim. But…" he gestured over to his son, still bound by his hands and feet and looking completely defeated, "my son has rejected it. He has rejected his family. His duty. His future. Without an heir to pass to, what's the point?"

Horatio maintained eye contact while trying to surreptitiously manoeuvre himself into a position to give himself a chance to fight his way out. Daniel, however, merely gave a humourless smile and gestured with his gun for Horatio to move closer to Tim.

"Help up my son, Lieutenant. I have a surprise for you in the other room.

Horatio frowned. "A surprise?" he asked incredulously. "What sort of surprise?"

Daniel smiled again.

"My time is done." he replied simply. "Today is my 'retirement'. Into the other room, if you please."

Horatio exhaled and closed his eyes for a second before bending down and pulling the knots of the binding around his ankles free. Once his feet were free from the rope, Horatio wrapped his arm under Speed's left shoulder and wrapped it around his back before pulling him to his feet.

"I'm sorry, H." The words were barely a whisper. Horatio tightened his grip slightly.

"Let's get to the other room, OK?"

Speed nodded and shuffled painfully with Horatio's help out of the door, past his father, and into the larger room, finally coming to rest against the window frame - careful not to put his whole weight against it lest it disintegrate completely.

"I must say, its an unexpected pleasure having you here to share our last night, Lieutenant." Daniel said, voice jaunty despite the nature of the words. He moved to set up the lanterns one handed, careful not to let Horatio out of his eyesight. Light finally filled the room, deceptively bright.

Horatio looked across at Speedle then back at Daniel - he was busy unpacking the cardboard boxes. There were packets of Semtex explosives connected to wires and Horatio's eye widened as the realisation of what he planned to do.

"Daniel, let Tim go." Speedle's protests were ignored as Horatio continued. "He's your son. Let him go. Let him live his life."

Daniel exploded into angry agitation.

"Don't tell me what my son should do! He's my son! I was there when he came into this world and I'll be there when he leaves it!"

He was waving his gun in the air to emphasise his point.

"You were never there."

The words were uttered barely above a whisper but the bitterness and loathing made them clearly audible and they stopped Daniel in his tracks. He turned his attention back to Speedle, anger radiating off him and his eyes reflecting the madness within.

"What did…." he started before Speed cut him off mid sentence.

"You were never there. You may have been my father biologically, but you are not my dad and you never will be. You are nothing to me. Just another sick bastard…"

The fist that hit him made his knees give out and he hit the floor with a force that took his breath away. He lay still for a second, gazing down between the gap in the floorboards. The bit of light which filtered through the boards faintly illuminated the outline of a body floating in the river under the shack. Speedle knew it belonged to one of the two men who had brought him here. His father had kept them around long enough to complete the final part of his plan - to retrieve his son from the hospital - and had rewarded them with a bullet each to the back of their heads. Speed had been present when it had happened and it was the moment he knew for sure that he was going to die. When it was going to happen was the great unknown. He had made it through the first day and the second. He was sure he wouldn't make it through the third.

A kick to the ribs robbed him of his breath and winded him for several long moments. His fathers anger was evident in the screaming fury of his words accompanying further kicks to his body.

"You ungrateful little shit! A bullet's too good for you! I'm going to kill you, you little fucking shit!"

Speedle's eyes were closed tight and he tried to shield himself from the barrage of kicks as best he could.

Daniel pulled his gun in front of him and aimed it squarely at his son but, before he could pull the trigger, he was momentarily distracted by the ringing of Horatio's cell phone. Horatio could not have been more grateful for Mac Taylors timing and used the opportunity to throw his full weight behind a tackle straight to Daniels midriff, knocking him to the ground, the gun skitting across the floor and coming to rest perilously close to a gap in the boards. The two grappled and fought each other - both desperate to win control. Finally, Daniel got the upper hand. Raising to his feet, he pulled Horatio's gun from his waistband and pointed it at the lieutenant as he sat up against the table leg.

Bringing a hand to his mouth to dab away a trickle of blood from a split lip, Daniel raised his eyebrows at Horatio.

"It's time to say goodbye, Lieutenant." he muttered as he aimed the weapon at Horatio's head.

The crack of the gunshot was extraordinarily loud in the small room and Horatio watched in almost slow motion as the expression on Daniel's face changed from raged madness to surprise before he fell forwards and tumbled against the table which gave way under his weight - Horatio scooted quickly out of his way before flicking his gaze over to the window.

Speedle was on his feet, stunned expression on his face, shaking like a leaf and with his arms still stuck out in front of him gripping tightly to his fathers gun, still with a wisp of smoke coming from the barrel. He looked as if his knees were going to give way under him at any moment. Horatio was pushing himself to his feet when he noticed movement at his side. Daniel was injured but still moving - albeit slowly. His hand was grasping for something, and Horatio suddenly had a sick realisation what he was reaching for. With neither time nor weapon to stop him, he instead ran towards Speedle and threw his entire weight on him. His momentum carried them back against the window frame, which promptly gave way and sent them both down into the river below. A wave of superheated energy following them as the shack exploded in a brilliant ball of flame as the Semtex ignited.

The burning heat on his back lasted only a millisecond before the shock from being immersed in freezing water kicked out what little air he had in his lungs. There was an instant of panic where he feared he may drown before his body's fight or flight response kicked in and he pulled both himself and a struggling Speedle back up to the waters surface. He heard Speed take in a hoarse lungful of air and tightened his grip around him. With handcuffed arms, there was almost nothing Speed could do to save himself.

Murmuring words of comfort, Horatio struck out for the nearby river bank and, when he could get his feet to touch solid ground, he supported Speed's weight by throwing his arm around his young colleague and encouraging him to stumble the few feet to safety before they both sunk heavily to the ground. Any heat that was left in their bodies was leached out almost instantly by the freezing ground and both men sat shuddering next to each other. Horatio threw his other arm around Speedle in a bear hug and rubbed his hands vigorously over his back trying to warm them both up even a little.

The sound of sirens and the flashing lights of multiple police vehicles descended on them almost instantly as officers arrived from the nearby search of the docks. Mac Taylor was one of the first officers Horatio saw and he gratefully accepted the warm coat that Mac offered. More jackets were promptly offered by officers and Mac tucked them around the two men. As one of the officer released the handcuffs around Speedle's wrists, Mac leaned in and offered his hand.

"Tim Speedle? It's nice to finally meet you properly. Mac Taylor. New York CSI."

 **Thanks for reading this chapter. Please consider posting a review.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 _New York City, New York_

The following hours past by in a blur. Ambulances arrived and both Horatio and Speed were transported to hospital. Horatio was discharged once he had been assessed but Speedle had been admitted with the aim to surgically repair his broken arm.

Alexx had been notified by Mac as Horatio's cell phone was too waterlogged to work and she had arrived at the hospital full of concern.

By the following morning, things had calmed down significantly. Mac and his team had returned to the scene to process what little was left of the shack while Alexx stayed at the hospital and Horatio returned to his hotel to catch up on some much needed sleep. By the time he returned, he was rested and relaxed. Speedle had been to surgery early. He had woken from the anaesthetic surprised to find his mother by his bedside. It had been several years since he had seen her and at first he thought he was hallucinating. His post anaesthetic grogginess made the awkwardness of the long separation easier and it disappeared completely when she reached out to stroke his hair and apologised for not fighting harder to keep him in her life. When she took hold of his hand, it transported him back to when he was a small boy and he closed his eyes feeling safe and secure and succumbed to sleep once more. By afternoon, he had woken, been interviewed by Mac Taylor, showered and shaved and looked almost human again - albeit battered and bruised.

Horatio returned in the early evening and met Alexx in the foyer. The stress of the previous few days had caught up with her and she gratefully accepted a long hug from Horatio before returning to her hotel to rest. He had a moment of deja vu as he stood in the hospital doorway and took a moment to watch his young colleague. Speedle lay in the hospital bed, head turned to one side quietly watching whatever was happening outside the window, oblivious to the eyes watching him from the doorway. Knocking quietly, he watched as the dark head turned towards him and deep brown eyes locked onto him. He looked tired. Taking a few steps into the room, Horatio paused near the bed and put his hands on his hips, a small, gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"How you feeling?" he asked.

Speed gave him a wan half smile in return.

"OK…..thanks to you."

Horatio pulled the visitors recliner chair across to the bed and sat down - he was aching from head to toe after the events of the previous night.

"Have you given your statement to Mac yet?" he asked quietly.

Speed nodded his head.

"Yeah, he came in this afternoon. And my Mom."

Horatio raised his eyebrows briefly.

"How did that go?" he asked carefully.

Speed took a measured breath.

"Actually not too bad. I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder or some shit."

Horatio gave a brief chuckle and dropped his head down momentarily.

"Well I think you're probably both very different people from the last time you saw each other."

Speed gave a single nod and looked down at his hands.

"H….." Speed began, not really knowing how to say what he really wanted to.

"Yeah, buddy."

"Thank you. For everything. For rescuing me. For saving my life. For being a better dad to me than my biological one ever was….." his voice broke and stopped him mid-sentence.

Horatio ducked his head and reached out to squeeze Speedle's arm.

"You're welcome."

A companionable silence settled between them for several minutes.

"I don't really know what I'm supposed to do now." Speed said quietly.

Horatio frowned and tipped his head sideways to look at his young friend.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I don't know where I belong."

Horatio let the comment hang for a moment and was about to reply when Speed started talking again. His voice was detached, as if he was reciting from a book.

"When I had to leave Miami I couldn't do anything. I couldn't live a normal life. I took on a new identify - a new name, a new past, a new everything - and for the next couple of years I just sat there thinking…..thinking that this wasn't a life…thinking that I was in hiding, I was just rotting away in some safe house, while my father - that crazy son of a bitch - was trying to find me. I knew that if he did, that I was a dead man. I knew if I continued to just live in this make believe world that I would go crazy myself and, either way, I was a dead man. I know it wasn't the best decision I could have made, H, but I just figured I had nothing left to lose. I figured if I could find my father first then I could at least go out on my terms. It doesn't make much sense, I know, but….."

His voice trailed off. Horatio watched him as he talked. It was almost as if the words were coming from an out of body experience. Speed's eyes were focused straight ahead and it was clear he was replaying events inside his head. Horatio just sat and listened. It was clear he needed to talk it out.

"I was in New York for a week before he found me. I slept on the streets, asked around and tried to track down some of the people who had worked for him in the past. What I realised pretty quickly was that most of his associates from when I was living here had deserted him. Then I found Carmine and he set up a meeting with my dad. They took me to an old warehouse and….things get a little fuzzy from there. He was out of his mind. Kept talking about a family dynasty and, when I told him I wasn't interested, he tried to force me into it. He tried to beat me into it then, when that failed, he tried injecting me with God knows what. I can't remember much else." "You're doing fine." Horatio said quietly. "How well did you know your father?"

"When I was growing up I didn't really have anything to do with him - Mom wouldn't let him have anything to do with me. In my senior year at school he started to make contact again and by the time I was at Columbia, I was seeing him a couple of times a month and he was helping me out with money. Its one of the reasons my relationship with my Mom and James went downhill. He started to change though. He started becoming irrational. Violent. I remember one day he came into my dorm room and trashed the place. He thought I had been stealing from him. When I got back, he pinned me to the wall and threatened to kill me if I ever stole from him again. He thought I was selling drugs and working for the competition. It was just after that when my friend, Mike, died. He had been doing well after the snowmobile accident. He was wheelchair bound but he had regained movement in his arms and was learning how to be self sufficient. He had moved to a supported accommodation centre and was restarting his life. Then he died. The coroner ruled it a suicide - he'd OD'ed on heroin. He never did heroin, H! He was never into drugs! People assumed that he had been depressed and that he had decided to end it and knew that a heroin overdose would be quick. But he would never have done that, H. He would never have done that. He had medications around him that would have ended his life without resorting to heroin. His parents knew. I'm sure of it. They wouldn't look at me at the funeral. It was my fault. I had ruined their life. I had ruined Mike's life. He was with me when he was injured and I'm sure my father was involved with his death. I couldn't deal with it. I should have stayed and dealt with it back then but I didn't. I left. I got the hell out of New York and ran. That's when I ended up in Miami. I knew that he'd always try and find me but I figured if I stayed in Miami and worked in law enforcement that I might have been safe. He went back into jail not long after I started in the lab and, for the first time in years I felt safe. But then he got out and Sackheim arrived at my home one night and told me I had to leave. They had been watching him since he got out and he had made specific threats against me and told undercover agents that he knew where I was and he was going to kill me and anyone associated with me. I couldn't stay, H. I was responsible for Mike's death. I didn't want to be responsible for any more. You, Calleigh, Eric…..Alexx. No-one was safe while I was there. I had to go."

He fell silent and Horatio ducked his head and pretended not to see the swift swipe of his right hand across his eyes. He was acutely aware of how difficult it would have been for Speed to open up and confide in him - he was a notoriously private person. And now Horatio could see why.

"I didn't want to leave."

It was spoken so softly that Horatio barely heard it. He watched as Speedle draped his right arm over his eyes. The shutters had come back down and Horatio knew there would be no more information forthcoming.

"I know you didn't." he replied, voice equally quiet.

Horatio sat with him in a peaceful silence until Speed finally succumbed to sleep. Although he knew Speedle was safe, he was reluctant to leave him alone so, standing to remove his jacket, he repositioned himself in the recliner, adjusted the foot rest, covered himself with his jacket, and settled in for the night.

After two nights in hospital, Speedle was finally released. It surprised Horatio that he had accepted his mothers invitation to go back to his family home but part of him was pleased that, at the very least, Speedle may have come through the horrendous experience with a prospect of repairing his damaged family life.

Horatio packed up his bag and checked out of the hotel. It had been a longer than expected stay in his former home city and he found himself looking forward to getting back to Miami. There were things that he missed about life in New York, but there were plenty of things he didn't.

Stopping to pick up Alexx at her hotel, the two made their way to the airport. It had been a very long week.

Checking in, they went to get a coffee while they waited for the third member of their party to join them. They had almost finished when he arrived. After a haircut and a new wardrobe, he looked a lot more like the Speedle of old - with the exception of his left arm pinned to his chest with a sling. Alex stood and wrapped her arms around him. Horatio watched them and noticed the absence of bags.

"You're not coming with us." It was a statement more than a question.

Speed broke apart from Alexx's embrace and dropped his head down. He looked decidedly uncomfortable as he forced his head back up to make eye contact with his former boss.

"No." he replied quietly. "No, I'm not. Not yet, anyway. My Mom and James have asked me to stay on for a while…..until I get my life together again. And I think I want to do it."

Alex reached out and grabbed hold of his hand, squeezing tightly.

"Good for you, Timmy. Good for you."

Speed rewarded her with a slight smile and squeezed her hand back.

Despite a stab of disappointment, Horatio offered up a smile and gave a brief nod.

"I think that's a good idea." he said. "I hope it all works out for you."

Speed maintained his eye contact and gave a nod.

"Thanks." he replied. "I owe you two everything. I won't ever take for granted what you've done for me." Horatio reached out and lay his hand against Speedle's bicep.

"You don't owe us anything, Speed." he replied. "Just go out and live your life. And take good care of yourself."

Speed nodded and looked as if a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Horatio picked up his coffee cup and finished the last of it in one sip. Looking up at the departure board, he glanced across at Alexx.

"We should get going." he said.

Alexx nodded and reached out to hug Speedle again. "You look after yourself, baby, OK? And don't be a stranger! I'll call you when I get home."

Speedle returned the hug with his good arm.

"Yes, Alexx." he murmured like a contrite schoolboy.

As they pulled apart, Speed turned his attention towards Horatio and extended his hand for a farewell handshake. Reaching out, Horatio instead pulled him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around him and held him tightly.

"You look after yourself." he murmured into Speedle's ear. "Stay in touch. And you know where I am if you need me, OK."

He felt Speed's head nod and heard him mumble words of thanks.

Breaking apart, Horatio bent to pick up his carry-on bag and he and Alexx bid a final farewell to their friend, headed through security and made their way to their gate.

"Do you think he'll be OK?" Alexx asked, concerned.

Horatio gave her a small smile in return.

"I think he'll be just fine." he replied.

 **Thanks for reading. As always, please consider leaving a review.**


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

14 MONTHS LATER

 _Miami, Florida_

The morning light filtered through the window shutters of Horatio Caine's office and reflected off the silver photo frames that sat to the side of his computer. In one of the frames was a black and white photo with a woman and her two young sons sitting on either side - his mother, his brother and him. In the second frame - his wedding photo. At his desk, his jacket off and tucked over the back of the chair, he sat staring down at piles of paperwork but too preoccupied to be able to focus on it. The past few months had been amongst the toughest he had ever experienced. Throughout his adult life, he had always tried his hardest to be a good role model and took pride in being a father figure to his younger colleagues. It was what he was good at. At least, he had always thought it was. He had dreamt of one day becoming a father for real - particularly after he had married Marisol, when starting a family was high on their priority list. But his dreams had been shattered when his wife had been murdered shortly after their wedding day. His dreams of fatherhood had died along with her.

Yet here he was.

Five months earlier, while investigating a murder case, he had made the shocking discovery that he had a biological teenage son from a short lived love affair with Julia Eberly - a woman that he had met while working undercover in Pensacola. The boy had grown up in the foster care system and had been arrested for breach of parole after having served time in juvenile detention. Horatio had juggled getting his head around his sudden parental responsibilities while navigating him through the judicial system. He struggled deeply with the fact that Julia had kept her pregnancy from him and, as such, he had been deprived the chance to raise Kyle - although he didn't know how he could have managed raising a child as a single parent in his line of work.

Regardless, his priority now was ensuring Kyle stayed safe in prison until the end of his sentence - then he could concentrate on trying to be the best father he could to the boy. To make up for lost time.

He took a deep breath and pushed the paperwork to one side. It could wait until tomorrow. Glancing out of the opened door, he noticed a familiar figure making their way up the stairs towards his office and he felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Pushing himself up from his chair, he checked his watch. Right on time. Speedle offered a small, lopsided grin as he arrived at the doorway and gave a sight upwards nod in acknowledgement.

"H."

Horatio looked at his former CSI and reached out to pull him into a quick hug.

"It's good to see you, pal." he said as they broke apart. "How have you been?"

Speed shrugged.

"I've been good." he replied. "It's nice to be back home though."

Horatio nodded.

"It's good to have you back. When do you start work?"

"Not for another couple of weeks." Speed replied. "I start class preparation as well as my research project then I don't have to start lecturing until August - so 6 months until I have to start wearing a suit."

Horatio raised his eyebrows in a shrug. It was one of the many differences in Speedle since his return from 'the dead'. His facial stubble was well manicured nowadays and his wardrobe had gone from scruffy to neat casual. He had an inner confidence which shone through in the way he conducted himself. Horatio and Alexx had watched as he had re-found his feet after the awful events in New York the previous year. Speed had made good on his promise to stay in contact with his Miami family while rebuilding his relationships with his biological one. He had stayed with his Mom and step-father for a couple of months before he had taken up his old Columbia University college professors suggestion that he return to study to get his doctorate in biology. He had six months left when he was offered a teaching position at Miami University. His professor was able to pull some strings to ensure Tim could finish his research project from Florida before taking up his lecturing commitments. It was a new path for him and would allow for him to continue consulting occasionally with CSI from time to time.

"Are Eric and Calleigh able to make breakfast?" Horatio asked,

Speed nodded.

"Yeah, they're meeting us there….provided Eric's in a fit enough state. He took me to the Gold Leaf Club last night as a welcome home. Last I saw him he was heading out the door with a hot, young brunette."

Horatio smiled and gave his head a brief shake.

"Some things never change." he replied.

"Well apparently some things do." Speed answered. "How's fatherhood?"

Horatio took a deep breath.

"It's taking some time to get used to it." Horatio admitted.

Speed gave a smile and offered a shrug.

"It will take time, H. You'll be fine though.

Horatio looked unconvinced.

"I hope so - I feel very inadequate when it comes to Kyle. I've missed out on so much I don't know where to start. He needs his father and I doubt my abilities in that regard at times. " Speed shot him a look of confusion.

"You're kidding, right?" he said, dark eyes fixed firmly on his former boss. "H, that kid has got it made having you for a father. Trust me. You'll be fine. After all, you've had a lot of practice with Eric, Cal and me." Horatio gave a short chuckle and offered a single nod.

"Well I just hope he turns out as well as the three of you." he replies, glancing at his watch.

"Time for breakfast." he said moving past Speedle to grab his jacket and shoulder into it. "Are you hungry?"

"I'm starving." Speed replied simply.

Horatio smiled, patting Speedle on the shoulder gently as he ushered him out the door, pulling it closed behind them.

Some things certainly didn't change.

 **THE END**

 **Just a short chapter this time to tidy things up. Please consider writing a review. Thank you to those who have reviewed the last couple of chapters. It's greatly appreciated.**


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